


A Glint of Beskar

by VenusAndromeda



Series: A Glint of Beskar [1]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Adorable Grogu | Baby Yoda, Angry Din Djarin, Bottom Din Djarin, Bottom Mando, Din Djarin Needs a Hug, Din Djarin Removes the Helmet, Din Djarin's Helmet Stays on During Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Good Parent Din Djarin, Gratuitous Smut, Grogu | Baby Yoda Being a Little Shit, Helmetless Din Djarin, Hurt Din Djarin, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mando'a Language (Star Wars), Mom I'm so sorry I'm thirsting over a Disney character, My First Smut, Nightmares, Oral Sex, Panic Attacks, Past Rape/Non-con, Pedro Pascal - Freeform, Protective Din Djarin, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Soft Din Djarin, Top Mando, Touch-Starved Din Djarin, Young Din Djarin, daddy Mando
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 19:00:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 32,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28550523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenusAndromeda/pseuds/VenusAndromeda
Summary: Mandalorian Din Djarin's past and present collide when he rescues y/n from an encampment. You travel with Mando and Grogu afterwards. Slow burn until smut to allow for proper backstory clarification before any hanky panky starts.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You
Series: A Glint of Beskar [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2091741
Comments: 139
Kudos: 510





	1. That Beskar Helmet

**Author's Note:**

> -CANNOT WAIT TO GIVE YOU SEXY MANDO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y/n gets rescued by a mysterious, shiny... man? Hot man? You have no clue bc you're almost dead?

Finally, the constant noise from blasters and screams abate and heavy footsteps grow louder. As you hear the cellar doors above you rattle, the boy next to you gently guides you behind the stacks of boxes, protecting you from whatever pain might come next. You aren’t able to see who slings the doors open, partially due to the blinding light after being in the dark for so long and partially due to the limited view from behind the boxes. 

One blaster shot echoes in the small space, but you catch a glimpse of brown eyes as the boy is lifted out of the cellar by someone’s hand. Whoever it is lifts the boy into their arms.  
You scream his name, just as blaster shots start pounding your ears from outside. 

The noise makes it impossible to hear what he yells back.  


Years later, you would still have the memory of his lips moving burned into your brain.  


The phrase unheard, but well understood.

\--------------------------------

_You wiped your face with a towel, realizing seconds too late that you transferred the grease from it onto your brow. Sighing, you clambered out from underneath the airspeeder to stretch your limbs after being contained for so long.  
_

__

__

_“Come out here, take a break!”  
_

__

__

_Shaking your head, you followed Teckla’s voice outside the shop. It was your 30th birthday, though the only reason you knew that was because the Ardennian who adopted you as a child was dead set on celebrating.  
_

__

__

_It didn’t really matter to you, you stopped counting after the attack. What was the point of keeping track if your family wasn’t there to celebrate with you?  
_

__

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_Especially the boy.  
_

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_In the hot sun, Teckla fidgeted with multiple wrenches, trying to mend the old starfighter in front of her.  
_

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_“Teckla, what needs to be done?”  
_

__

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_She scoffed and looked up at you, “You need to fly it.”  
_

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_You nod and immediately started running mental diagnostics on the small starship in front of you. A bit of rust, but nothing you hadn’t fixed before. Whoever brought it in obviously had been rough on it, but you’d seen worse. A small hand touched your forearm, yanking your focus away from your mental checklist.  
_

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_Teckla was small, even for her race. You had no idea how old she was, but her increasing wrinkles gave you some clue. Neither of you said anything, so you raised your brows, inviting her to explain. “It’s not work, it’s for you. I’ve been working on it for months. The only things it should need now are cosmetic.”  
_

__

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_“For me.”  
_

__

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_“Yup, hop in.” Teckla knew you weren’t one for words, especially when being gifted something, she never expected them from you. Hell, you didn’t even speak to her until you had been with her for over a year. She constantly found ways to fill the silence, entertaining you and teaching you no matter how silent you were.  
_

__

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_“Thank you,” you looked down at her once more, squeezing the hand that still laid on your arm.  
_

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_You never expected that to be the one of the last things you said to her -_

__

__

\--

All those years of combat training, and you’re still stuck in this shit hole cellar on Arvala-7. The grate above your head lets in some light, but not enough to see your surroundings fully. The stench is Maker awful, and you know there are bodies rotting around you. Somewhere to your right, you can hear raspy breathing. One, two, three rattles… and then it stops. It’s been a constant cycle of this for the past four-ish years. You aren’t even sure if your timeline is right.  


You jump as the door slams open, footsteps bouncing off the walls as a Nikto makes her way down the steps. Somewhere above you, laughter echoes. They’re probably getting drunk on spotchka, drunk enough to have their fun, but not drunk enough to let their guard down. Luckily for you, their fun only includes using you as a boxer in their illegal rings. They’ve never directly laid a finger on you, but most days you think you’d prefer their hits to the creatures you go up against.  


Today is no different.  


“Get the Hell up,” the Nikto snarls as she grasps your elbow painfully hard and yanks you to your feet. Your last fight was only two days ago and you bite back a gasp as pain shoots through your side. As far as you could tell, you probably have multiple fractured ribs. You don’t realize you’ve drawn blood until you taste the coppery heat in your mouth. You grunt as the woman pulls you forward.  


She’s the only one that’s stayed the same over the years, most of your other captors have either died outside the encampment or been killed by others inside the encampment. You still don’t know her name though, so you’ve taken to calling her Red due to her coloring. She hates it, which makes you use it even more.  


“Who am I up against tonight, Red? Hopefully someone more my size?” You’re being hauled up the stairs now, the noises above you becoming louder with every ascending step. You can hear bets already being placed, most of them for the underdog. It’s easy to realize you’re the underdog, which makes you grimace as it answers your own question.  


She doesn’t respond to you until she’s unshackling your wrists. When she leans down to whisper into your ear, it makes your skin crawl. Her hot breath makes you more nervous than you’ve ever been. _She won’t touch you, _you remind yourself. It doesn’t help.  
__

____

____

“Now where would the fun in that be, sweetheart?”  


You stumble into the ring after her hard shove connects with your shoulders, and your jaw drops as you look at the towering creature in front of you.  


What has got to be the largest Klatoonian you’ve ever seen lunges at you seconds after the whistle is blown. You barely have enough time to dive out of the way, landing with a huff on your side. You’re able to gain your footing before sprinting around the creature knowing if you can get behind him, you’d have the upper hand. Klatoonians don’t have great peripheral vision, meaning if you can stay on the side of him, he won’t be able to block your hits. The bigger issue here is that he’s easily three times your size, which doesn’t take much.  


You roll just in time to not be directly clocked in the face by his massive fist, but he still connects on your right side. Splitting pain shoots through your cheek and eye. Blinking away drops of blood, you make a drastic mistake. In the seconds between landing in a crouch and standing to face your opponent, you get distracted by a bright glint bouncing off what could only be…  


_Beskar? Impo-  
_

__

__

Your thought is cut short by the gigantic forearm smashing into your core, you barely have enough time to cry out before being flung through the air. A quick mental rundown of the ring’s layout gives you just enough time to brace for the impact against stone before it happens. Somehow you save your head from cracking against it by throwing up your hand behind your skull, but the sickening crunch of your fingers makes you gasp just as your already sore ribs make contact. You land on all fours, quickly rolling away from the foot coming down to smash you into the dirt.  


But you aren’t as quick as you thought, and instead of completely saving yourself, you pin yourself back against the wall. Too quickly, the Klatoonian grabs at your hair, his fist easily twice the size of your head, and pulls you up. Ordinarily, you wouldn’t allow the scream that tears from your throat to be heard by the onlookers, but you can’t help it as you’re thrown through the air again.  


The last thing you see is that Beskar helmet right before your rag doll body hits the ground and everything goes black.

You vaguely understand the voices around you as you’re being dragged back down to your cellar, but your mind is too slow to process the consequences of what you’re hearing.  


“Bitch lost, what’s the point of keeping her around?”  


“She was already injured-“  


“We can still make money off her, there’s other-“  


“No.”  


_That last voice sounds a little bit like Red, _you think drowsily before losing consciousness again.__

__Minutes, hours, days later - you aren’t sure - you hear the loud echoes of blasters firing above you. You think you’re dreaming, but when it stops the dream doesn’t continue. Slowly, and painfully, you open your eyes. Or you try to, considering one of them is swollen shut and you can’t remember exactly how it happened. Heavy clad footsteps make their way down the stairs, but the light silhouettes the figure from behind, making it impossible to tell who stops in front of you.  
_ _

__Strong arms reach underneath your aching body, the cold metal feeling simultaneously welcome and painful as it bites into your skin through the thin pants and shirt you’re wearing. The last thing you hear before your eyes close against the pauldron of whoever is holding you is a heavily modulated sigh as he stands up to leave with you._ _


	2. Nevarro City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -no summary, just gentle, caring...sugar daddy Mando?

Somewhere to your left you hear weird babbling sounds, and if you didn’t know better you’d think it was a baby. _Weird, there’s never been children in the cellar before _… Your left eye opens easily, but pain shoots through the right and you lift a hand up to feel the jagged, split skin on your cheekbone. Tenderly, you poke around and feel how swollen the skin is. You hiss at the stinging. Attempting to move your head to look around gives you two things: a clear idea that this is definitely not the cellar, and a brain splitting flash of pain through your head. Slowly, you try to complete a checklist of your body, hoping that everything will function, even through the pain. At this point, you can’t remember much and have no clue who you’re with or where you’re at.  
__

____

____

Taking a deep breath proves too hard, as heat floods through your core and burns at your swollen sides and, albeit, broken ribs. One of your shoulders feels like it was recently dislocated and popped back into place, and you can’t flex your left hand. A quick memory floods your vision, giving you insight to why your hand is currently unusable. _Thank the Maker I saved my head with my non-dominant hand, who knows if I’ll need to fight my way out of here. _  
__

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____

A loud thumping sound echoes from the back of the hull behind your head and you hear two sets of footsteps ascend up the ramp. One is heavy, fleetingly similar to ones you remember from somewhere else - but you aren’t entirely sure where - and the other is slightly panicked by the sound of it. Whoever it is starts to mouth off but you hear a grunt followed by a loud hissing sound. You can smell the vague scent of tibanna gas as someone gets locked into a carbonite block.  


Against your will, you cough and even though you try to cover up the groan of pain from the sudden use of your throbbing chest, you know whoever is behind you can hear it.  


“You’re awake.” The voice is definitely male, but deeply modulated through what you can only guess is that Beskar helmet you vaguely remember seeing. By this point, you have enough bits and pieces of your memory that you remember being distracted by the glint of it. You try to respond to the figure you still can’t see, but all that comes out is a strangled groan. He comes towards you and you can hear that weird babbling again, but still don’t see anything. Finally, he’s to the side of you, just enough so that you can look over at him.  


From where you’re laying, you’re parallel with his stomach which is slung with a weapons belt stuffed with ammo and blasters. His chest is covered in shiny Beskar, and you vaguely remember the armor on his lower arms biting into your legs and back when he picked you up. Even though you can’t see his eyes behind the helmet he’s wearing, you somehow know he’s looking you over too, probably fully taking in your wounds.  


Suddenly, a flush creeps up your neck into your cheeks. Silly, really, considering you know you look like death. You try to talk again, but he slowly shakes his head, “Don’t. Kolto will have to do, I’m out of Bacta.” He doesn’t explain anything else before reaching above you to remove a black bag from a cupboard. Clunking it down on the right side of your head, you hear him dig through it before pulling out bandages and a small syringe. Your heart rate increases as he starts wrapping your left hand, and you bite your lip against the grunt of pain you almost let out. That helmet looks up at your face, lingering a little too long before looking away.  


“This will hurt,” he tells you before stabbing your vein with the needle, an instant burn creeping through your bloodstream before everything goes black again.

\--

_The airspeeder lurched beneath you as you took off, blasts echoing around you in the middle of the night. The pitch black lit up in increments with the bursts. The shop and the hut were both blazing hot with fire, and the smoke lingered in your lungs as you tried to speed away. Just as you were both bolting, you heard Teckla scream behind you, her clothes sizzling as she went down from a blaster shot. Somehow you made it out, rising up and out of the bandit attack, almost in the clear to escape to Navarro City. It’s not far, you could have made it.  
_

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_A single, deadly blaster beam hit the right engine.  
_

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_You weren’t far off the ground, unlucky considering you knew you’d live through the crash. Hurtling down, you braced for the impact of the hard ground. The Quarren below you chuckled as you hit the dirt, sprinting toward you in the dark. The surrounding blaster shots in the small village, plus the increasing flames, started to give a clear picture of the creature as he grabbed you by the hair.  
_

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_Fuck, you knew what was coming next and still didn’t know how to prepare.  
_

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_The squid-faced bandit threw you up against the side of one of the currently untouched huts, tearing your shirt from your shoulders. The impact of the wall, plus the previous crash makes your vision falter, but not before you see the guy reach his hand down to undo his belt and-_

__

__

\--

You thrash, finally able to produce a shrilling scream that echoes through the hull. Within seconds, the man who you can only guess is a Mandalorian drops down from above and calmly, but quickly, comes to your side. Half awake and half terrified, you jerk away from his outstretched and gloved hand, hitting the metal behind you before realizing it was just a dream. Breathing heavy, you realize his hand is on your cheek, a gloved thumb lightly rubbing circles near your temple.  


He must realize it too, since he quickly jerks his hand away, but continues to look at you through the helmet.  


“Sit up.” He commands, and you obey with only a little bit of pain. The Kolto must’ve worked, but who knows how long you’ve been out. The man in front of you starts to lift the edge of your shirt before you bat him away, panicking slightly. A modulated scoff escapes from the helmet, “Let me look.”  


He tries again, this time catching your hand as you respond the same way. “Stop it,” he commands. “Let me check your ribs, they were broken.”  


All you can do is breathe out a small, “Oh.” You lift the torn overshirt over your head, grunting a little at the stiffness in your shoulder. If you didn’t know any better, you would think the slight tilt of his helmet means he feels just as awkward as you do seeing you in the dirty sports bra you’re now wearing.  


He crouches over a bit to get a good look at the yellow and green bruises splayed up and down your sides.  


“Maker, how long was I out?”  


Before answering you, he reaches out and lightly lays one palm against your right side before reaching for your bandaged hand with his other hand. You grimace at the light pressure, but it doesn’t hurt enough to ask him to stop. Before you can think about it anymore, he removes his palm and unwraps your hand, still holding it in the other glove. _Maker, his hands are huge compared to mine. _  
__

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“A couple days.”  


You jerk your eyes away from your bloody and bruised hand, “ _What? _”  
__

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“I have business on Nevarro. We just landed, you need clothes.”  


Before you have the ability to ask more questions, or process being back on your home planet after so long, he drops your hand and gives you a large black shirt. You stare at him until he shakes it at you, “Put it on.”  


Doing as he says, you stand up, feeling unbalanced on your feet, your boots uncomfortable underneath you. He hands you a bag of, what you can only assume are, credits and motions towards a floating capsule at the back of the hull. The capsule comes forward when he flicks two fingers.  


You suddenly feel warm, warmer than you should in the dim and cold space.  


“Let’s go. I’ll meet you in half an hour.” Without another word, he steps onto the ramp and heads toward the building in front you.  
Navarro City.  


It looks oddly the same, but so different at the same time. Slowly, you follow after this mysterious man, questions reeling in your head. _Is this actually a Mandalorian? How did he get the armor if he’s not? Where’d he get so much Beskar? What does he want with me? What’s in that capsule?  
_

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_Who is he?  
_

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The obvious questions, like how will he know where to meet you, don’t cross your mind as you enter the walls of the city. Ahead of you, in the crowds, you can see the glint of his helmet as he walks into a cantina. You decide to actually shop for clothes and such before worrying anymore about him. The city is full of so many people, that only a few cast odd glances your way. You don’t stick out much even though all you have on are boots, torn leggings and a huge black shirt. It’s hot though, the sun beating down on the black fabric and making you feel feverish.  


A small hut with a Kubaz sitting outside looks like a good place to start. It takes your eyes a second to adjust inside, but you’re soon stunned by the selection. After years of wearing the same filthy clothes, or at least the same types of clothes, this makes you feel like a giddy child. You’re suddenly stricken by a memory of Teckla taking you shopping as a teenager, but you sniffle quickly to keep the prick of tears at bay.  


The Kubaz follows you inside, obviously the shop owner, but allows you to freely look around without bothering you. Finally, you settle on the basics (a few shirts, a few pairs of pants, undergarments, and a jacket) before looking at other things you may or may not need. You decide to get a new pair of heavy leather boots, contently sighing at the fact you can burn the old things you’re wearing. The credits you spend on the duffel bag and clothes don’t even make a dent in the amount of credits you were given.  


When you exit the shop, you immediately notice the man leaning against a building across from you, his helmet glinting in the sunlight. You don’t realize he’s looking directly at you until he starts briskly walking towards you when a drunk from the cantina next door whistles at you and attempts to get your attention.


	3. Call Me Mando

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -no summary, just SEXY JEALOUS MANDO  
> -Greef Karga is simultaneously one of my favorite and least favorite characters bc creepy?

He’s next to you so quickly that you don’t even have time to register the whistle fully. The drunk reaches out to slap you ass and a gloved hand connects with his face at the exact same time. The crunch of the cantina patron’s nose is sickening, and blood quickly pours out of it across his blue-grey skin.  


“What the Hell?” You hop back as the guy crashes to his knees in front of you, the Beskar helmet silent beside you. You open your mouth to ask another question when he puts his other hand on the small of your back. He shrugs towards you and wipes the blood off his glove on his pants. With a slight amount of pressure, he leads you into the cantina, past the thinning crowd of onlookers who saw him ruin a drunk guy’s day.  


Inside the cantina, you see an older guy wave over to your pairing, “Mando! Nice of you to finally join me. Who’s this?”  


_Huh, Mando? I guess he is an actual Mandalorian. _You smile slightly as you approach the table, but quickly stop at another increase of pressure on your lower back.  
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The modulator crackles a bit before Mando responds, “She works for me.” You stare at him as he sets down four tracking fobs on the table before settling into the booth.  


“Ah,” the man turns to you. “Mando’s never been one for words. Hopefully you won’t mind that too-“  


“Karga. The pucks.” As Mando speaks to the man, you feel his hand lightly brush your knee under the table before coming up to rest in front of him. He clasps his hands and leans toward him.  


“Mando, how many times have I asked you to call me Greef. We’re friends!” He waves at a droid for shots of spotchka. You immediately down yours, trying to quell the nerves and whatever else you feel fluttering in your stomach. Greef Karga laughs, “Maker, Mando. It’s always business with you. Take a break.”  


“No, the pucks.” He ever so slightly looks at you, only enough for you to notice. Somehow you get the feeling you upset him by drinking the spotchka, but the fuzzy feeling in your head makes you not care.  


Greef Karga waves at another person in the room and instructs them to start the unload. “I’ve only got a few pucks this time, but you can have your pick Mando. The bodies will be unloaded shortly,” he says as he reaches into his pocket and removes seven pucks. Mando slowly flips through them, his movements direct rather than lazy. He pockets four.  


“Lets go,” he lightly tugs at your arm before exiting the booth, nodding at Greef Karga before the man can say anything else. You offer him a slight smile before trailing after Mando and the floating capsule.  


You walk back to the ship in silence, walking faster than normal to keep up with his huge strides. You notice how subtle he is about looking around, whereas you blatantly look at your surroundings, taking them all in, calculating any possible threats.  


That’s the first similarity you notice between the two of you, that you both have an air of caution as you leave the city.  


When you get back to the ship, you stop in your tracks, looking up at the massive piece of metal in front of you. It looks old, but obviously has enough fighting power. You can see the multiple mounted cannons it has. Before you realize how much you’re gawking at the gunship, he stops walking and turns around. As you continue to take in the machine in front of you, he walks back to your side, ducking his helmet next to your ear and speaking low, “Shower. Then I’ll show you around the Crest.” He doesn’t wait for your response before heading up the ramp, but you know he sees your flushed skin.  


You quickly follow him up the ramp and notice a door to the left that has what looks to be a shower head. You’ve never taken an actual shower with water though, so you aren’t completely sure and look to him for an explanation. His modulated sigh comes through the helmet just as the ramp closes behind you, and he reaches in to turn a knob which is followed by water and immediately steam starts filling up the hull. Without a word he heads up the ladder, only stopping to make sure the little capsule follows.  


Once you know he’s gone, you undress and step into the warm water. It stings at first, whether because of the few left over cuts on your body or because of the new sensation. The soap you bought at the small shop lathers up quickly and you scrub at your skin as hard as you can without making the bruises painful. Your hair has never felt so soft, the refreshers you were used to before being on Arvala-7 were only equipped with sonic showers that constantly dried out your hair and made it frizzy. While being held at the encampment, you only remember being splashed with cold water once a week, but you never remember bathing.  


_Maker, I probably smell horrible. Can he smell through that helmet?  
_

__

__

Afraid of wasting water, you struggle to turn the knobs off. After a few attempts resulting in either freezing water or scalding water, you finally figure the system out before realizing you have no way to dry off.  


A jolt rumbles through the gunship that makes you think it entered hyperspace, so you risk peeking outside of the fresher to see if you’re alone. There’s a soft towel hanging next to the door which you gratefully take, realizing he probably came back down here to leave it there. You cross the room, hair dripping wet, to where your bag is laying on the cot. Dressing quickly, you start to feel lighter, the stiffness in your shoulder and hand lessening. You can even open your right eye fully, though it’s still a bit tender around your cheek. Unfortunately you notice there’s no mirrors, so you can’t know for sure how horrid you still look. After quickly braiding your hair, you pack the rest of your new things into the duffel and grab the bag of left over credits. You decide to stay barefoot, enjoying this small increment of time that you aren’t walking on bloody dirt. Instead of looking around, you decide to climb up the ladder to what you assume is the cockpit.  


You’ve gathered that he doesn’t like talking, probably less than you do, so instead of greeting him in the pilot chair, you set the credits down and take a seat in the co-pilot chair. You don’t even notice the huge green ears peeking out of the capsule, yet.  


He glances at the bag of credits, “Those are yours.” The modulator cracks, but somehow brings a small sense of comfort to you.  


“What?”  


“When I told Karga that you work for me, I was serious. Unless… you don’t want to.” Something about the way he says the last part makes you think he doesn’t second guess himself very often, but wants to give you a choice. With a sudden jolt, you realize he isn’t trying to keep you as a prisoner, he rescued you to give a choice. You look over at him, trying to understand anything you can from his body language but he stays completely still, the only hint that he isn’t actually a droid is the slight modulated breathing you can hear.  


“O-okay. What’s the job then?” You turn to look at the streaking lights of stars in hyperspace, trying to hide a slight smile at the fact you’re free to make any choice you want.  


After years, you’re free.  


“That,” he turns slowly and points at the green face poking out of the capsule. Giant black eyes stare right at you as you turn to look at it. Whoever is behind the helmet stares at you, maybe expecting more of a reaction than you give, but instead you get up and walk over to the child and stick a finger out to it.  


It babbles.  


“So this is what I heard when I woke up in the hull?”  


He doesn’t answer you, just nods. Normally, you wouldn’t mind the silence but you need answers.  


“I’ll take the job on one condition: answer my questions.” Your voice is stern, and though you don’t notice it, his body stiffens at being spoken to so bluntly. He inclines his head a little, watching you, inviting you to ask. “What’s your name?”  


“You can call me Mando.”  


You straighten and look at him, set on making him understand you aren’t afraid of whatever power he supposedly holds. “That’s not a name.”  


“No.”  


“Then-”  


“That’s what you can call me.” His head tilts as he watches you start to pace.  


“Fine. How’d you find me and why?”  


He stares at you for a few beats before answering, “I didn’t.” You don’t say anything, letting the silence stretch until he’s forced to elaborate. “I was on a bounty when I saw you fighting the first time. You won that one.”  


It almost sounds… like he chuckles behind the helmet. You scowl.  


“I came back, I wasn’t expecting you to be close to dead though.”  


“You-you came back? Why?”  


“It doesn’t matter.” He turns back to the controls, signaling that the conversation is over. You sigh, turning back to the child. He reaches up his six fingers to you and you pick him up, lifting him easily out of his blankets. A silver ball falls to the ground, but within seconds it zooms into his little palm.  


“What the hell?” You jump a little. Did you imagine that?  


You jump when you look up to see a chest full of Beskar standing in front of you, you can see the gradual rise and fall of it before he answers, “He does that.” Mando’s tone tells you he doesn’t have anything else to say before he heads down the ladder and you hear clinking in the hull before the shower turns on again.


	4. Mando'a

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: Y/N has a panic attack, but Mando takes care of you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Maker, I'd sell my soul for sweet Mando

While you don’t know much, you know enough to leave Mando alone when possibly removing his helmet. As far as you know, it is a sacred thing to see a Mandalorian’s face. Teckla had told you the tales of the Mandalorian Creed, you knew the differences between the ways of the old and the ways of the new. As of now, there were three sects of Mandalorians, though you didn’t know which one Mando belonged to, and didn’t care to ask.  


If you’re being honest, you thought all the Mandalorians were dead. That’s why you were so surprised to see Beskar.  


You decide to stay in the cockpit, not wanting to risk anything that might upset him. The child babbles as you put him down in the co-pilot seat. “Oh yeah, and why’s that?” He babbles some more as you egg him on, turning away from him to look over the control panel.  


The amount of buttons that flash in front of you is twice the amount you’ve ever seen, but it doesn’t look too complicated. You quickly find the grid for the navigation. “S-12? You know what that is little guy?” You turn back to see the kid fiddling with the silver ball, “Nal Hutta. Maybe there’s a quarry there.”  


He drops the ball, but this time doesn’t use whatever he used before to get it back. You go to retrieve it when you realize he’s playing with a shiny totem around his neck. Slowly, you reach for it and he lets you investigate. You recognize the skull as a mythosaur, a symbol of the Mandalore.  


A quiet, modulated huff makes you drop the totem, scrambling to find the ball, but the toe of his boot comes down on it right before you reach it. “You know how to read the navigation grid.”  


Not a question, a statement.  


Gradually looking up from his boot, achingly aware of the fact that you’re down on all fours in front of him, you lift your eyes to his helmet. Not before noticing small details that make you flush.  


“Yes,” you say quieter than you meant too. You clear your throat and try again, “I was taught back on Nevarro by the woman who raised me.”  


He’s silent for a moment, allowing you the opportunity to haul yourself to your feet. The gunship was large, but the cockpit was just small enough to make you aware of the heat radiating off of Mando’s body.  


“The woman who raised you?”  


For a moment, you’re surprised at the way he seems to be prying. You take it as a chance to give him the same bluntness that he’s been giving to you, “Yes.”  


You think he’ll press a little bit more, but instead he brings his hand up to your elbow, making your breath hitch, before he gently moves you aside so he can get to the pilot’s seat.  


“We’re going to Arvalla-7,” he taps on the screen a bit before dropping out of hyperspace, only to immediately jolt back in.  


“But I thought-”  


“There’s been a change of plans.” His tone sends shivers down your spine. You know you’re too new here to have any say, but a sheen of sweat breaks over your brow. You don’t even realize you’re shaking until you slam down onto one of the storage bins behind you, causing it to bang against the wall. Mando flips the chair around incredibly fast, and is paused between jumping out of the seat and coming towards you. You don’t process the fact that he’s calculating whether he needs to comfort you or not because you’re so focused on getting a breath into your lungs.  


A panic attack rocks your body at the mere thought of going back to that Maker forsaken planet -

\--

_You see money being traded from the Nikto to the Quarren, fearing that what will come next is you being sold as a whore. After enduring what you did for the last -_

__

__

\--

“Hey. Hey stop.” You feel a gloved hand at the nape of your neck, and even though you know who it is in front of, your tears blind you from seeing him. “Maker, I’m not giving you back to them. Please…”  


This man, who you’ve known for about a week, this man with his modulated voice and Beskar armor… sounds like he is pleading. What he says next shouldn’t surprise you as much as it does.  


“Gar’re morut’yc,” he says so softly you can hardly hear him through the crackling sound of the modulator.  


You don’t even bother using Mando’a back to him, but you still give it away that you understood him. “I’m safe,” you whisper between small hiccups.  


When you finally are able to blink enough tears out of your eyes, he’s staring at you. At least you think he is, and you realize he’s been silent since you last spoke minutes ago. His helmet is so close to you that you swear you can smell him, and Maker does he smell good. He moves his hand from the nape of your neck, slowly to cup your jaw, but this time you don’t flinch away. But then, he leans his helmet against your forehead and breathes out a question, “You understood that?”  


This time, the crackling can’t hide how smooth his voice sounds, even though it’s distorted.  


As softly as you can without him not being able to hear you, you respond, “Elek.” At that moment, you swear you see his shoulders drop all the tension they seem to carry. His hand stays cupping your jaw, the leather of his thumb rubbing against your cheek. You haven’t spoken Mando’a since you were a kid, around your family and grandparents who taught it to you. The spoken language was passed down from generation to generation, usually only spoken by Mandalorians, but somehow your family had ties that made them know the tongue. There was one other family in your town that spoke it, they had a little boy with brown eyes who you would play with.  


But they’re all dead. It doesn’t do you any use thinking about them. 

Some sort of beeping emits from the control panel at the front of the cockpit. The gunship drops out of hyperspace, just in time for you to see Arvalla-7 loom in front of the windshield. A voice suddenly crackles through the ship’s communication link and Mando reluctantly leaves your side to respond. While his back is turned, you hastily wipe at the tear stains on your face, immediately embarrassed at your lack of control. _Maker, you just fucking cried in front of a Mandalorian? Get it together. _You look over to see the child is zonked out, which is a bit of a relief.  
__

__“Kuiil, the Razor Crest is preparing to land. Do you copy?”  
_ _

__“Copy.”  
_ _

__The Razor Crest jolts down as you lower yourself into the co-pilot seat, maneuvering the child to sit on your lap. You watch Mando in front of you as he lands the ship smoothly. At some point during your episode, you decided you have to trust him. There is no reason not to. Yet. He turns to look at the child, then up at you right as the gunship’s ramp touches down below. Getting up, he doesn’t say anything before taking the kid from you and setting him in the floating capsule. Then, he reaches out his hand which you don’t hesitate to take and he pulls you to your feet, slowly wiping at one last tear you missed before letting go and climbing down the ladder.  
_ _

__After the capsule is lowered and out of your way, you climb down and are startled by the scene outside of the ship as you walk down the ramp. Mando is… laughing? You look behind him to see a fenced area with multiple Blurgs, but almost don’t see the small man Mando is talking to. Mando finally turns around and waves you forward, introducing you, “Y/N, this is Kuiil.” The small Ugnaught nods to you, making it clear with his look that you don’t have to speak if you don’t want to.  
_ _

__You’re so relieved about the comfortable silence that you don’t even realize that Mando used your name, even though you never told him. It wouldn’t be until later that you’d question this.  
_ _

__Kuiil leads you both inside before Mando informs him he’s here on business, and asks if you and the child can stay with him the next night. For tonight, he’d stay with you both. He laughs again at something the little man says, and you feel a warmth spread over your body at the sound, even if it is modulated.  
_ _

__After what feels like hours of sitting in this small hut, you start to doze off, your chin propped up on your fist. You don’t hear Kuiil retire to his room and you barely feel when Mando picks you up and carries you back to the Crest._ _


	5. An Evening with Kuiil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Kuiil is just sweet and I adore him  
> -I PROMISE HANKY PANKY WITH MANDO WILL COME SOON

The next morning, you wake up on the cot with a piece of metal digging into your shoulder. _Maker, no wonder he probably sleeps in his armor. _For some reason he didn’t roll you into the actual cot space, he left it pulled out. After your panic attack yesterday, he was probably hoping you wouldn’t freak out in the small space. Secretly, you’re grateful, even if that wasn’t the reason. Small spaces scare you more than this Maker forsaken planet.  
__

__Your body doesn’t hurt or sting when you get up to stretch, having completely healed from the torment of the last time you were here. The only pinch is where that pipe dug through the thin fabric of the cot. You roll it into it’s compartment before popping in the fresher to quickly wash your face in the sink.  
_ _

__Climbing up the ladder, you peak your head up to see if you can see Mando, but the doors to the cockpit are open and he’s not there. Sighing, you head back down and outside, curious if he’s with Kuiil. The kid is, but Mando isn’t and you do your best to not look disappointed.  
_ _

__“He left this morning, told me to tell you.” You stare at Kuiil, waiting for more details but he just nods, “I have spoken.” Turning back to the child, he reaches out a hand to the little bundle in the capsule. Figuring out that he literally has spoken all he’s planning on, you wander out to the fenced area. One of the Blurgs bellows at you but you stay leaned up against the fence, even as it looks like it’s about to charge.  
_ _

__You notice there’s one less than there was last night and ask over your shoulder, “Did Mando take one?”  
_ _

__“Yes,” silence for a moment, then, “and he said you might know how to work on droids.”  
_ _

__Spinning around, you study the little man for a minute, deciding he’s serious. You didn’t tell Mando that you know how to do anything, really. He never asked. Weighing your options, you decide to play your cards mysteriously. “Maybe.”  
_ _

__Kuiil looks up at you from his seat and shrugs, “You can either wander around in the heat, bored, or you can be useful.”  
_ _

__Scoffing, you walk back into the shade and realize he’s right. “Fine, where’s the droid?” He motions towards a workbench to the right without ever taking his eyes off the child.  
_ _

__The machine is a mess. Multiple bullet holes though the chest and head, wires hanging out and a melted blaster attachment on the left arm. You curse underneath your breath and get to work, feeling very much at home in the little hut._ _

____

____

Hours pass, and when the sun starts to dip below the horizon, Kuiil comes to your side, “It’s looking better. You are skilled.”  


You chuckle, wiping your hands on a cloth already soaking with grease. “Thanks. It’s been a long time.”  


Kuiil nods and is quiet for a moment, pointedly looking at the droid instead of you. After the silence grows awkward and you start looking around out of concern he says, “Mando told me that you had a rough go here. I do not want to pry, but tomorrow I have to leave for business. He said he’d be back, but if he is not, will you be okay?”  


Shocked, you look down at him, slowly setting down the rag you didn’t realize you were wringing. You should tell the truth, but instead of being weak you just say, “I’ll be fine.” It doesn’t sound as strong as you’d hoped though, and he stares at you long and hard before finally going to bed, leaving you to pull the capsule back into the ship and close the door alone. 

The next morning, you sit with Kuiil in the already sweltering heat and drink caf. He burned it a little on the fire, but his jokes make up for it. He’s very gentle around you, which makes you wonder what else Mando might have said to him. The child likes him and constantly makes grabby hands for his attention.  


“When are you leaving?”  
Kuiil studies the sky before looking back at you, “Soon. I will wait as long as I can.”  


Looking out over the dunes that are surrounding his little home, you say, “It’s fine. You don’t need to.”  


He nods, and heads inside, probably to pack his bags. When he finally comes back out with them slung over his shoulder, the kid is running around catching bugs and shoving them in his mouth with his grimy little fists. You watch him but don’t call or go after him as long as he stays in your sight. Twice now, he has waddled up to you to show you the large bugs before swallowing them.  


“Last time the kid was here, he swallowed a frog from the Blurg trough,” Kuiil says with a chuckle. He drops his bags with a thump before scooping the green child into his arms and giving him a small hug. “I should be going.” He hands the kid back to you and picks up the bags, heading towards the enclosure.  


“Is there anything I can do to help while you’re gone?”  


He shakes his head, loading the bags onto his mount’s back, “No, stay here and be safe. Mando said you have extra blasters?”  


A little taken aback, you quickly run through what you know about the Razor Crest in your mind. Admittedly, it’s not much. “Uh, yeah. Yeah on the ship.”  


“I have spoken,” Kuiil gives you a big smile before mounting the Blurg and waving goodbye, leaving you with a floating capsule and absolutely no clue where the weapons are. 

By the evening, when the sun starts to dip, you’ve managed to find the weapons, as well as the carbonite block area. There’s no quarries in it currently, but you’re guessing that will change at any moment. You’ve played with the child for hours, and he’s currently snoring from his pile of blankets so you decide you can probably close the cover and get some alone time while you wait. With the hull door open, you decide to sit on the ramp which gives you the perfect view to catch the smallest glint on the horizon as the sun dips lower.  


Your stomach jolts as you suddenly realize the glint isn’t moving as it should, the only movement is that of the Blurg that keeps walking. Dust continuously kicks up behind the beast… almost like something is being dragged. This doesn’t feel right, shouldn’t someone be walking next to the animal and someone riding it? But you see no one, other than that small glint, and just as the sun disappears, you realize why.  


Without any second thoughts to grab a blaster, you take off sprinting towards the animal, only slowing down as to not startle it when you get near. A rope is tied to the unconscious - or dead? - quarry’s ankle which is being dragged, just like you thought. But Mando doesn’t stir as the Blurg walks right up to you. Before you have the chance to panic, you pull it's harness and lead it back to the enclosure. You leave the quarry tied to it, but quickly try to pull Mando off it’s back, realizing too late that the mixture of him being above you and heavier than you means he’s going to either slam into you or the ground.  


You decide to take the pain and pull his limp body down onto you, falling back on your ass, grunting underneath the weight of him. Shimmying out from under him, you can’t help but notice that your clothes are soaked in… it’s not cold, which can only mean one thing.  


Blood.  


You’re not big by any means, in fact, you’re dwarfed by the size of him. Reaching underneath his arms, you realize just how much bigger he is as you try to drag him up the ramp. It’s slow going until you realize you can tear his armor away and lose tens, maybe a hundred pounds of weight?  


Laying him down, you sprint back to hit every single light switch you can think of and pull out the med kit you know is hidden in the side cupboard. As quickly as you can, you unclip his Beskar and throw it back behind you into the hull. Both pauldrons, the breast plate, his forearm plates, the plates on his legs. You tear the cloak off its attachments and shove it behind you, realizing it might be good to cover him up with unless you can find blankets.  


The blood is seeping out from an unseen wound, soaking your pants and his clothes. You’ve got to find it but you have no idea how much of this is crossing a boundary.  


_Fuck it. You'd rather he be angry than dead.  
_

Pulling him the rest of the way into the hull is easier without the armor, and as soon as the door slams shut, you’re pulling his gloves, boots, socks, shirt and pants off, leaving only his helmet and underwear.  


A slash tears across his abdomen, just under where his breastplate ends, but you can see more blood seeping from somewhere on his back. Panicking, you flip him on his side, finding no lacerations on the strong muscles of his back… then where? You reach to feel between his closed thighs, your hand coming out slick with blood. His femoral vein. Easing him back down, hands coated in blood, you reach behind you for his shirt, pushing it into the cut on his stomach and pulling his hands up to keep pressure on it. “Mando,” your voice is shaky, “if you can hear me I need you to hold this okay? Please.” You’ve never begged in your life, but here you are. Digging through the med kit, you find the wound cauterizer and a Bacta shot, knowing that both of these are going to hurt. You’d rather stop the bleeding than make him comfortable right now though, so you flick the switch and wait for the cauterizer tip to get hot.  


“Mando…I’m sorry.” Slowly you start dragging the tip against the jagged slice you located on his thigh, straddling his hips backwards so you can hold his leg down with one hand. Part of you worries he’ll jerk forward and clock you with his helmet, but so far so good. The blood stops coming as fast as you drag the machine over the wound, but you’re only a third of the way done when he convulses under you, a modulated scream coming from the helmet. A tear rolls down your cheek as you try to hurry the process up without botching it, but your arm jerks when he suddenly wraps his arms around you, forcing you to drop the machine between his open thighs. “Mando-”  


“S-stop… f-uck-k…” He tries to stop you but his grip loosens and you lunge for the machine as he falls back to the floor, his helmet clinking softly. His hands grip your hips hard enough to leave bruises as you continue to stop the bleeding, his groans echoing through the hull. 


	6. Family Birthmark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Does Mando have a pain kink????

It takes about 45 minutes to cauterize the wound on his thigh because he keeps jerking and trying to buck you off. In other circumstances, maybe you’d find it funny. Eventually, the bleeding stops and he’s left with a ragged scar about six inches long on the inside of his thigh, but you don’t even have time to gawk, you just turn around on his hips and remove the wadded up shirt from his abdomen. You thought he passed out a few minutes ago, so the slight twitch you feel below your groin and his hands slowly moving back up your thighs takes you by surprise.  


You yelp, lifting your hips off of him and bracing one hand on his sternum while the other goes to work with the machine. This wound is smaller, but still deep and oozing blood. He did a piss poor job of applying pressure. He groans the minute the hot tip touches his skin, bucking slightly and digging his fingers into your ass this time. You bite down on your lip, hard. Concentrating on the task, you do your best to ignore the heat welling up inside you. _He’s a Mandalorian for Maker’s sake, and a hurt one at that. Are you really thinking about that right now? _You scold yourself as you drag the tip across his skin. As you get closer to the muscles that form a deep V right above his waistband, you hear his breathing hitch through the modulator. _Oh for fuck’s sake, he is not doing this right now._ _ _

___He is, you feel him, and as much as you try to ignore it, you can’t. Instead you lift your hips higher, trying to keep your mind focused on the task at hand.  
_ _ _

___Though he jerks a few more times, his death grip on your ass helps him stay still enough to speed up this wound’s cauterization. Proud of your work and the fact you at least kept him from dying, you roll off him and reach back over him to pull his cape across his body. He keeps one hand on you, but you slowly remove it, whispering incoherently to him while you get up to find towels and a bucket to fill with warm water. As much as you’d like to just pull him into the fresher, you have no idea how that would work for two reasons: the helmet and the tiny size of the shower. Instead, this will have to do. Using towels would at least remove enough of the blood to make sure he’s not bleeding anywhere else.  
_ _ _

___After some digging around, and making sure the kid is still sleeping so as not to traumatize him with his dad lying half lifeless on the ground, you make your way back over to Mando. By some luck, you found multiple blankets shoved in a cabinet, so you grabbed those too but did your best to keep them out of the carnage. Kneeling next to him, you dip one of the small towels you found into hot water and wring it out before slowly wiping at his shoulders and chest.  
_ _ _

___He’s calm now, his breathing still shallow but coming faster, which you know means he’ll panic as soon as he’s able to find his bearings. You have to work quickly, but in this position, you can’t help but admire the man in front of you.  
His smooth skin is evenly tanned, even though it probably hasn’t seen the sun in ages. His hair, that you can see, is dark brown, almost black and a trail leads down -  
_ _ _

___You shake your head, “This is ridiculous.” Your murmur is so soft you doubt he could hear you even if he was conscious. You can’t help but notice his muscles as you continue cleaning the blood off him, though. He’s strong and chiseled, but not large, though his size dwarfs you when he’s standing. As you drag the towel lower down his chest, you think you see a slight tremble under your touch, but you do your best to ignore it.  
_ _ _

___You move to his legs, doing your best to clean up the wound that is now a glaring scare. Being this close to-  
_ _ _

____Nevermind. _You push those thoughts out of your mind again and again. When you’re satisfied, you discard the towel and grab another one, dipping it in the water and wringing it out again. Realizing this next part is going to be tough, you decide the best way to do this is to support Mando with your knee. Moving back to his side, you throw one leg over his middle and gently pull him into a sitting position, your other leg coming up to support his back. Straddling him from the side allows you to reach around clean his back and sides better.  
__ _ _ _

___His helmet rolls lazily against your shoulder - probably still out cold.  
_ _ _

___You notice a few scratches after wiping most of the blood away, but nothing too serious. What catches your eye, though, is a dark mark just below his collar bone. You wipe at a little more, thinking it’s dirt, but when it doesn’t budge, you squint your eyes, trying to distinguish it.  
_ _ _

___The realization hits you like a train._ _ _

_____ _

_____ _

\--

_You’re running over the barren landscape of Nevarro, trailing after a bunch of boys around your age. Their shrill laughter echoes off the caves formed by lava rivers that are on either side of your path. You stop to stare at one of them, entranced by the heat that billows out, knowing if you stand in front of it for too long that you might get burned.  
_

_The one thing your parents always tell you is to not hold your hand to close, or you’ll lose it. Hearing your dad’s voice in your head, you turn away just in time to see one of the boys in front of you fall.  
_

_His hands, thrown out in front of his body to protect him, land on a cracking piece of black ground, just before molten lava spews out and onto them.  
_

_His scream will be forever burned into your brain.  
_

_One of the boys next to him, your best and fiercest friend, tears his cloak and shirt off, trying to hit the flames and stop them from destroying your companion’s hands. As you run forward to try to help, the ground splits more and those brown eyes look up at you just before he jumps and rams into you. Both of you roll back just as your playmate is taken by the heat.  
_

_He doesn’t let go of you though, his 8 year old body shielding your smaller, 6 year old one. As you open your eyes against his shoulder, you see the Djarin family birthmark - ___

____

____

\--

You’re pulled back to the present when a strong hand grasps your tricep, clinging to you as his body trembles from shock. Still struck by the coincidence, you try to compose yourself enough to support his weight as you scootch back against the wall to hold him. His breath comes in racking sobs, and you wonder if he’s crying underneath the helmet or if he’s panicking.  


“M-mando, it’s okay. You’re okay,” you try to comfort him but the modulator rasps underneath his heavy breathing. He’s trembling harder now and you reach for the blankets near you, stretching to grab them. Stretching so far you can almost hear the groan of your joints, but finally you catch a corner and yank it over to you, shaking it out to cover him. “Mando-”  


Cradled in your arms, his helmet uncomfortably pressed into your neck, he murmurs, but the modulator doesn’t pick it up as he’s racked by another round of sobs. You realize that he’s not crying, he’s hurting because…  


“Maker! The Bacta! Mando h-hold on.” Luckily this is closer to you, and you don’t strain yourself to grab it, “This is going to hurt, only for a second.” You hear him take in a deep breath right before you stab the needle into his arm, pushing down on the plunger and watching the liquid as it disappears into his bloodstream. He jolts a little, but almost instantly relaxes into you again.  


After what feels like an eternity of holding him and making sure he’s still breathing, you realize there’s a quarry that needs to be retrieved. You start to shimmy out from under him, and lay him down, rolling one of the blankets up for underneath his helmet. Wondering how comfortable that is, you lay a blanket over him and walk to the back of the hull, slamming your palm into the control board to lower the ramp. The sun is just starting to peak over the horizon, making you realize that you’ve been with him all night.  


The quarry is definitely dead, and when you get closer you suck in a sharp breath, leaning down next to her, “Red.” She looks like a blaster shot went straight through her chest and you untie the rope around her legs, leaving her and leading the Blurg back to its enclosure. Luckily it doesn’t resist, and almost looks grateful to be away from the corpse.  


Red is much lighter compared to Mando, and you quickly drag her inside the hull, propping her limp form against a chamber and investigating the panel to your right. Finally deciding on what to press, you punch in the buttons and wait for the hiss of gas. Within seconds, the quarry is in carbonite and hanging in the anti-gravity hold area.  
You hesitate a moment before walking back to the hut and leaving a note for Kuiil, explaining the situation in short and thanking him for his hospitality. By the time you get back to Mando, the kid is trying to climb onto his lap and making grabby hands.  


“Hey kiddo,” you scoop him up, “leave him alone for awhile. He’s hurt, so we’re gonna get out of here.” He coos back at you incoherently. After closing the door and checking to see if you can hear the modulated breath sounds, you make your way up to the cockpit.  


Mando’s pucks all give last known locations of quarries, so you find the nearest one and punch it into the navigation as you start the engines and lift off the ground. You hope the small lurches as you leave the planet’s atmosphere don’t bother Mando too much, and soon as the Crest enters hyperspace, you’re heading back down the ladder with the kid.


	7. Not Mandalore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a flashback and half explanation of the birthmark scene in the previous chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -MANDO CUDDLING AND PULLING TOWELS OFF YOU????  
> -Also, Mando removes his helmet but you totally miss out on the brown eyed babe underneath

The next planet is a few days away, which you’re grateful for since it’ll give him time to rest. As you play with the kid and his silver ball, you sit across from Mando, scrutinizing every slight movement and waiting for him to either wake up or freak out. It’s so quiet in the hull that you try to occupy yourself with the child’s coos, asking him questions in a whispered voice so that he’ll fill the silence with nonsense.  


Eventually the child starts to get sleepy, his big eyes gradually being covered by droopy eyelids. Instead of putting him back in his capsule, you open the door to the cot and set him in there with his blanket. He falls asleep immediately, the silver ball clutched in his hand. The door slides shut with a small hiss.  


Earlier, you tried to get Mando up on the cot while it was pulled out of its compartment, but you couldn’t lift him onto it and he wasn’t much help. He’s currently still passed out in the makeshift bed on the floor, and you crouch down next to him to feel his heart beat through his chest. It’s definitely gotten stronger and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Even though you’re scared of leaving him alone, you decide this might be your only chance to shower. Between taking care of him, the kid and cleaning up the huge mess in the hull, you’ve barely had enough time to wipe the blood off your hands, much less change your clothes.  


As the steam fills the refresher, you peel your shirt and pants off, the fabric stiff with Mando’s blood. All of your bruises are gone, and you look down at your rib cage to see your own birthmark. Stepping into the warm water, you sink into the memory. 

\--

_“Mommy? What is this?” She looks at where your small hand is trying to grab at a mark on your side; gently pulling your hand away, she smiles.  
_

_“That’s our family birthmark. All of the girls have them, see?” She lifts her shirt to show you hers and you reach out a small finger, poking at the crescent shape on her side.  
_

_“Why?” Your voice is small in the little hut, the heat outside making the indoors stifling hot.  
_

_“Our ancestors had them, but you aren’t old enough to know why yet. You might not know for a long time. One day you’ll meet someone with a different mark-”  
_

_“Oh, like my friend?”  
Your mother jerks her eyes to yours, taken aback by your comment, “What friend, y/n?”  
_

_“You know him. We play.”  
_

_“The Djarin boy, right?”  
_

_You nod, suddenly afraid that you might be in trouble. You also don’t want him to get in trouble, it was bad enough after playing near the lava.  
_

_“I wish I could tell you everyth-“  
_

_Her response is cut off by the echoing sounds of blaster fire and screams- ___

____

____

\--

The memory is cut short by a sudden groan outside, and you quickly shut off the water, wrapping your body in the towel. As you emerge, you notice that Mando is sitting up directly across from the door, watching you through the black slit in the helmet. He clears his throat, making you jump after being surrounded by silence and babbling for so long.  


“The quarry…”  


“I already dealt with her,” you take a few steps toward him, stopping at the way his helmet flicks up at your answer.  


“I didn’t want you to see her.” He shifts, his body flinching at the movement but he doesn’t make a sound.  


You cross the rest of the way over to him, suddenly aware that your hair is dripping down your back and the towel around you is dampening in suggestive areas since you didn’t dry off. You shiver, but not from the cold. “It’s okay,” emboldened by the events of the past 24 hours, you set a hand on his shoulder, his helmet coming up to look at you, and you kneel next to him. “We’re heading to Geonosis for the next bounty, but it will take a few days. You can rest.”  


He nods slightly, raising a hand to you, but then quickly drops it back to his side, his thumb rubbing at his new scar. You can’t help but look at the birthmark on his shoulder, trying to think of ways it might just be a coincidence. He sees you looking, and with a jolt you realize that when he was taking care of you in the days before, he probably saw yours. Flushed, you hurry to your feet, “I-I have to get d-dressed.”  


You spin away from him, but he’s too quick. Before you can even reach for your bag, he’s on his feet and standing behind you, his warm hands putting slight pressure on one hip and your arm that’s holding the towel in place. Maker, you forgot how quick he is. You can feel him breathing heavy as his chest lightly brushes your shoulder blades, and the modulator does little at hiding it. Your breath hitches in your throat, your chest tightening as he moves his hand down your arm until it’s resting over your hand. Entwining your fingers with his, he loosens the towel, letting it slide down between your bodies and onto the floor.  


His helmet lowers down to your shoulder and you feel him tense behind you as he breathes in and slowly trails his fingers up your hip and over your ribs. They come to rest right underneath your breast, where the crescent shaped mark is. Trying to focus all your attention on the cold metal of his helmet proves futile and you feel feverish as you try to make yourself breathe.  


“D-did you see,” he starts, pausing to take a shuddering breath, “something that you would like to ask me about?”  


Scared of what will happen if you admit you saw his birthmark, you shake your head, frozen in what you think might also be excitement. He releases your hand and moves to drag his fingertips up your spine, “N-no.” Your answer comes out as a puff of air but you’re positive he heard you. Just as you think he’s going to put his hands somewhere else, anywhere else, he pulls away from.  


“You should sleep,” is all he says as he turns to hastily go to the refresher, slamming the door shut behind him.  


Suddenly and achingly aware of how naked you actually are, you turn away from the wall and stare down at yourself, water droplets rolling down over your breasts and tummy. A sigh tears from your throat after holding your breath. You quickly get dressed and look around to see if there’s anything else you can straighten up before he’s done, the tightness in your core waiting for what’s next. His armor is stacked in the corner, as clean as you could get it while watching the child. The blood was washed up immediately after jumping into hyperspace. Your eyes land on the pile of blankets and look around to see if there’s a better spot. There’s a medium sized space towards the front of the hull that stays dim, even with the lights on, so you drag the blankets over and try to make it as comfortable as possible, not really knowing what to expect.  


You check on the kid before going up to the cockpit to double check the navigation and autopilot controls. Down below, you hear the shower turn off. You rush back down the ladder, almost slipping as you try to get in under the blanket, your heart pounding at the idea he might not like if you disobeyed him. This is silly, you think to yourself, when have you ever taken orders from someone, much less a man, unless you had to in order to survive? The thought makes you shudder, pushing unwanted memories out of your head once more. Truth be told, the blankets actually provide you some warmth in the cold hull. You also didn’t actually realize how tired you were until you laid down.  


Mando exits the refresher, a towel wrapped around his waist… that deep V leading down to… you watch as he opens a cabinet and then disappears again. Your eyes are half shut when he emerges in black pants and shirtless, “When’s the last time you slept?” His bare feet make soft thumps as he pads over to the blankets, a slight stiffness to his body that signals he might still be hurting a bit.  


“Dunno… The night before you left?” You murmur it into your arm as you turn onto your side, sinking into the exhaustion. Part of you wants to sit up and hold him, if he’ll let you. Instead he smoothly drops down on his knees in front of you, reaching out one hand to swiftly pull back the blanket before sliding in next to you. It takes you by enough surprise to actually open your eyes and look at him.  


The helmet looks back at you, but you swear you can feel his eyes boring into you. You feel warm again, remembering the feeling that left you when you were presented with a chance to sleep. The modulator cracks, “That's been over a day and a half by the looks of it.” You must look confused because he goes on, “You gave me a half dose of Bacta which knocked me out for… 16 hours? I’m guessing Kuiil put you to work the day I left.” You nod up at him, watching as he shifts against the metal wall behind him. His muscles jump a little.  


“Are you still in pain?”  


He doesn’t bother answering, just turns the helmet away and moves his arm enough for you to see the multiple bruises still yellowing the skin on his side. The scar on his other side, above his waistband, is still swollen and red, but it doesn’t look infected. You wish you could check the one on his thigh, but don’t know how well he would take it if you asked. The Bacta did what it could, but you realize it might not have been a strong enough dose.  


“Mando,” you say it softly, curious if he’ll even entertain the idea of questions, “where are you from?”  


He sighs, but it doesn’t come through the modulator, you only see his chest move with it. “Not Mandalore.”  


You stare at him, expecting more of an explanation, but he doesn’t give it. “Then how’d you become a Mandalorian?”  


“I was rescued and trained as a foundling. They don’t do it often.” The helmet pointedly looks down at you, “Where are you from?”  


“Nevarro,” you say it stronger than you would have expected, but he hears the tremor in your voice and suddenly moves closer, wrapping an arm underneath you and pulling you into him. His fingers rub absent circles on your hip where his hand rests. You must fall asleep like that, up against his warm side, your arm wrapped over his abdomen, being careful not to put pressure on anywhere sensitive. 

Hours later, after he knows you’re asleep and the child hasn’t stirred, he removes his helmet to gently kiss the top of your head before pulling it back over his face and falling asleep.


	8. Little Gremlin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y/N does cool bad ass stuff, Mando is hot as usual

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -UGH CANON MANDO LINES  
> -This title is NOT sexual in any way, but I realized how it sounded after the fact

You look up from playing with the child in the swamp outside the Razor Crest when Mando’s boots thud on the ramp. “Do you know what used to sit above this planet?” The helmet looks down towards you as he approaches and scoops up the kid who currently has frog legs sticking out of his mouth. His big green ears twitch as his dad sits down with him in his arms, then he suddenly slurps the legs into his mouth, swallowing hard. You laugh before looking up towards the sky.  


“The Death Star, if I remember right.” Mando nods, urging you to go on, “I don’t know much about it though, other than that it was destroyed.”  


“It was. I don’t know much either, but I know before that happened, the Death Star was moved.” He looks down at the dirt, a few sprigs of green popping up here and there. “The planet was sterilized. It’s desolate.”  


“Then why is there a quarry here?”  


“My guess is that they aren’t a fighter. They probably got a hold of a starship and made it to the first place they could live alone. The bond isn’t much. I-” He pauses and puts down the kid, who immediately waddles off to find some unlucky specimen to eat. “I want you to come on this hunt.” He stares at you for a few moments, waiting on your response, his helmet tipping to the side at your silence.  


“I-okay. What do I need to do?” You’ll probably just be watching the kid, but you don’t understand why you can’t do that from the ship. Plus, there’s a bunch of projects you noticed need to be done: rewiring, cleaning, polishing. You’re a bit taken aback by his proposition, but if it means getting him to talk, there’s no reason not to go.  


“Do you know how to shoot a blaster?” He asks as he stands up and offers you a hand, his palm linger in yours longer than it should after pulling you to your feet. He huffs a little from behind the helmet, but you brush it off.  


“It’s been a long time, but Teckla taught me,” he hands you one and you run through the basics of safety before looking at it further. Your shoulder bumps his arm while you walk side by side to a clearing where random targets have been set up: old junk from the ship and tree stumps mostly.  


“Teckla is the woman who raised you?” His voice has a hint of curiousness that’s carried through the modulator, and you realize you’ve only spoken about her once to him. Even then, you didn’t give him any information.  


Taking a stance and lifting the blaster to aim, you start telling him while practicing. He’s silent until you finish:  


“When I was a kid on Nevarro, my village was attacked.”  


Crack, the first stump splinters in half, sizzling.  


“She was an Ardennian who found me in a cellar afterwards.”  


Thud, another stump is hit but the thick wood stays solid, only a scorch mark visible.  


“Teckla raised me as her own for… 24 years? Taught me everything I know.”  


Clink, one of the pieces of scrap metal flys up and then falls back into the dirt.  


“Welding, mechanics, languages, all of it.”  


Ding, another piece of metal gets scorched.  


“I was thirty when I was kidnapped, the only reason I know that is because she was adamant about celebrating. I hate birthdays.”  


CRACK, CRACK, the last trunk splits into three pieces after two back to back shots. When you turn around, Mando has his hands on his hips and is staring at you. You’d like to think he’s impressed, but it doesn’t matter because you’re proud of yourself for hitting all the shots after years of no practice.  


“She found you in a cellar?”  


“Does that mean something to you?” It comes out harder than you meant it, but you stare back at him, waiting for him to admit he knows something. Waiting for him to admit he might know you.  


He doesn’t, instead he’s quiet, almost like he’s treading lightly in the conversation. Then, “No. Did she teach you Mando’a?”  


Just to be an ass, you answer him in the tongue, “Nayc, ner aliit.” The language was odd, and deepened with context, but you knew he got the gist when his shoulders stiffened.  


“Were your family Mandalorians?” You’re oddly aware that he’s moved closer to you during his line of questioning, and now he’s within an arm’s reach. You could reach out and touch him if you wanted to, but you bite your lip and cross your arms.  


“I don’t know. I never saw armor, but I don’t know much about them. My mother was going to tell me some big secret right before the attack,” you look up at him, craning your neck because of how close he is. Above you, the sun was positioned at mid-morning and a few of the moons were still dotting the sky. “There was one other family that stuck to the outskirts of the village, I played with the little boy a lot.”  


Mando nods slowly, his silence tripling in length as you stare at him, expecting him to say something. Instead, he turns towards the sound of giggles, heading out to find the child. You take it as your cue to head back to the hull and grab anything you might need. 

After hours of walking in the heat, the kid’s ears peeking out of the capsule as he floats behind you both, Mando stops near some logs and puts his bag down. A red light blinks steadily, but slowly from inside. The silence hasn’t been awkward, in fact it’s been comfortable, with both of you knowing what the other will do before doing it. He turns away and heads a few yards away where you can see him start picking up firewood.  


Even from here, you can see the small change in his movements that imply he’s in pain. By this time, you’d have thought that the Bacta would have healed him fully, but then you remember it might have been too small a dose. As you watch him, you reach into the bag to pull out food. The kid reaches up and tries to grab some from you, so you hand him some jerky that he immediately shoves in his mouth. “Little gremlin!”  


Mando drops the fire wood next to you, grunting slightly, before leaning down to make a neat pile, “Step back.” You don’t hesitate to follow directions, and he aims his arm towards the pile, a spurt of fire shooting out. At first the heat is overbearing, but within minutes of the sun dipping below the horizon, you’re grateful. He sits down across from you as you hand him some of the food, curious for a moment as to why he doesn’t start eating right away.  


“Oh,” remembering the issue at hand, “do you want me to turn around?”  


“No,” he lifts up his helmet just enough to eat and drink, and you try not to stare, but Maker you can’t help it. His lips are so smooth and you can’t help but to imagine what they’d feel like on your skin, on your lips, below your waist. You watch as he chews, oddly turned on by this forbidden skin you’re seeing, even though you’ve seen him pretty much naked. His facial hair is dark brown, almost black and if you squint you can see the smallest amount of curls peeking out of the back of his helmet. His hair shocks you, you thought he would have been clean shaven.  


You don’t realize how long you’ve been staring until you notice he isn’t chewing anymore, a glance down tells you he’s done with the food you gave him, but he’s kept helmet pushed up… for your sake? That’s ridiculous.  


You flush and quickly turn back to your food. “Sorry,” you say around a full mouth. He chuckles, and without the modulator, the sound is so smooth. It’s still a deep sound, and the thought of hearing his voice without the Beskar wall makes your knees tremble. But you hear the hiss as he pulls it back down over his chin and his breath pushes through the helmet. 

You wake up a few hours later, surprised you aren’t shivering now that the fire is out. As your eyes adjust, you feel a heavy piece of fabric over you. The strong scent - _Maker, how does it smell so good even though he’s constantly getting it disgustingly dirty? _\- makes you recognize it as Mando’s cape.  
__

__A scuffle from the side of the makeshift camping pit draws your eyes over to it, just as blaster fire lights up the area.  
_ _

__Mando stands with his blaster pointed at someone - a guy with blue skin, from the looks of it - who seems to be suspended in mid air, one hand grabbing at his throat and the other frantically waving a blaster. You immediately grab for the green hand that’s peeking out of the capsule to your left, and the guy drops from the air. Mando steps over him as he tries to lift his blaster, but a heavy boot kicks it and sends it flying into the dirt.  
_ _

__“I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold.”_ _


	9. Like A Sunset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mando finally gives you an answer to one of your questions... but only after some distractions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -The moment is finally here y'all!!!  
> -SMUT ON SMUT ON SMUT  
> -JK it's kind of tame but I hope it makes y'all feel something, thank you from the bottom of my heart for sticking with me.

In the increasing darkness, you can’t see what the quarry does, but you hear him whimper, “W-warm. P-please don’t kill me.” Mando said nothing as he hauled the guy to his feet, activating force shackles around his wrists. There’s a soft thud as the child falls back into his blankets, exhausted from whatever he just exerted himself with and you watch as his tiny mouth opens to show a few little teeth. 

“That’s not the first time he’s done that. I’ve seen it twice now,” Mando makes you jump at how close he suddenly is and you both turn as the quarry mumbles something, but neither of you ask for him to repeat himself. Instead, Mando just reaches out a gloved hand and shoves the guy forward. Quickly grabbing the bag, you follow the capsule as the three of you begin the long hike back to the Crest. 

The quarry is silent in the dark, but as soon as the hatch opens and the light spilling out of the hull hits you, he decides to run his mouth. “Mando, how’d you manage to get this one on the ship? Can I have a go before you -“ He crumbles as Mando’s elbow connects with his side, a gloved hand coming up to wrap around his neck, dragging him forward onto the ship. “Hey! H-hey man I didn’t mea-“ 

Mando cuts him off with another jab, his hold tightening as the guy struggles for air, gasping. Hitting a few buttons, Mando shoves him up to one of the black blocks suspended in the carbonite area. As the gas hisses, freezing the quarries face in a mixture between a scream and a cough, Mando turns to you, but doesn’t say anything. As much as you hate to admit it, his tone of voice when dealing with the bounty has your knees weak. The fact that he gets so protective over you just adds to the warmth in your core. “Y/N, are you okay?” He steps toward you slowly, a hand at his hip, and the thickness of his voice through the modulator making your chest hum. 

Blinking through the sudden haze his voice creates in your mind, you remember that this isn’t the first time he’s used you name and you stare incredulously at him before abruptly turning on your heel, needing to put space between his stupid, shiny helmet and yourself. He grumbles behind you. 

Ignoring him, you approach the pram where the child is passed out, snoring slightly, but otherwise dead to the universe. His little hands make grabby fingers, and you smile a little bit and reach out to stroke one of his ears before shutting the capsule. Whirling on the Mandalorian, you decide it’s now or never to question him, afraid of what might happen if you let him speak again. The tightness in your core makes it hard to stay focused as you stare at him from across the room, watching as he punches the buttons to close the hatch. “How do you know my name if I’ve never actually told you?” Your voice is quieter than you had hoped, and you cross your arms over your breasts, hoping to look at least a smidge intimidating. 

The helmet tilts toward you, and you can almost feel his smoldering gaze through the black slit that you still question how he sees out of. You both stand like that for a few minutes, waiting for the other to break the silence, but the equal amount of stubbornness you both have makes the moment drag on. 

Suddenly pissed, you grab the ladder, heading to the cockpit and attempting to get away from the man, grumbling underneath your breath, “Dank Farrick.” Just as you reach the area above you, you hear his aloof chuckle and slam your hand down on the controls, closing the doors behind you before sitting down in the pilot’s seat. He had told you earlier where the next bounty would be, and you plug in the coordinates, taking a hold of the gears and pushing upward, your muscles straining at the force behind the Razor Crest’s take off. Reaching over, you help as your hand comes down on a lever that’s missing a knob. You can feel the bruise already forming on your palm as you recognize it as the home of the metal ball the kid is always playing with. Against your will, you giggle and don’t hear the doors slide open behind you. 

He stays silent as you maneuver the ship out of the atmosphere and through a small asteroid field, weaving and dodging through the large pieces of rock and various pieces of metal. Clearing it quickly, you press the needed controls to jump into hyperspace, leaning back in the chair and studying one of your cuticles. After a few seconds, he clears his throat, making you jump. When you don’t immediately turn around to look at him, you hear a small _plop _as he sets his gloves down before silently approaching and resting his large, warm hands on your shoulders. You do your best to hide the shiver that goes down your spine.__

__“Does it matter how I know your name?” His smooth voice whispers, just next to your ear and you turn your head without realizing that you didn’t hear the modulator. A hand is cupping your jaw before you can catch a glimpse of him, even if it was an accident. Slowly, he moves it down to grasp your neck with just enough pressure to make your breath catch and your pulse pick up its pace. You know he can feel it through his fingertips and the thought makes you bite your lip against the whimper already bubbling in your throat. “Hold still,” he commands before removing his hand, and you hear him reach from something. The familiar _clink _of metal is missing as he moves, and you wish you could appreciate the wonderful view you know is behind you. Closing your eyes, you imagine him in the black pants he wore a few nights ago as he held you in the hull.___ _

___A heavy object slides down your head, hissing slightly as it comes to rest below your jaw. “Open your eyes slowly, it will take time to adjust to the heat signature,” Mando’s voice is soft as he turns the chair around slowly, your knees parting as he kneels between them in front of you._ _ _

___The most brilliant lights flash before your eyes as you squint to get used to it. You can make out the cockpit’s cold metal walls and doors by the blue waves on the screen, and the figure in front of you flashes in a mixture of reds, oranges yellows and greens. His facial features aren’t picked up by the thermal scanner, and you breathe out in relief, “It’s beautiful, do you always see this?”_ _ _

___“No,” he whispers, his fingers hooking in the waistband of your pants, “what does it look like?” You feel him pull them down, lifting your hips off the chair to give him room, before he leaves them around your ankles. “Tell me.” He grasps your knees and widens them. “What.” He grips the back of your thighs and pulls you forward on the chair. “It.” He bites the waistband of your underwear, slowly dragging them off, his stubble tickling your thighs. “Looks like.” His fingers tease your folds with the slightest touch, making you gasp._ _ _

___“I-its… it’s like a sunset,” you breathe out, too distracted by his thumb that’s putting pressure on your clit. He nips at the inside of your thighs, alternating sides and licking the skin in between bites. “Th-the cockpit l-looks blue an-“_ _ _

___Your moan cuts you off as he dips a finger into your dripping pussy, pumping slowly in and out before stopping completely, “Go on.” His command makes you clench around his finger and you can feel him smile against the inside of your thigh, the intricate dance of nipping and licking starting up again._ _ _

___“I-it’s like w-waves-s, the… the blue,” you’re whimpering now and another finger enters you. His digits bending and pumping inside you, your knees starting to shake. Just as you’re about to tell him the colors that you’re seeing him in, he removes his fingers and replaces them with his mouth, his tongue flicking out against your clit as he grips your thighs. You buck against him unwillingly, but his hands find your hips and hold them down as you moan behind the Beskar._ _ _

___He stops for a second, signaling that he won’t continue until you do._ _ _

___“I-I can’t s-see you. You’re m-made up of reds…” you trail off as his tongue slowly licks between your lips, and he returns his fingers to your opening. Your pussy is dripping and you can feel the orgasm coming as you try to tell him what you see, but it’s incoherent and your vision swims in and out of focus as he ravages your clit with his tongue. “M-mando…”_ _ _

___The moan he lets out against your clit sends you into the final stages, your body tightening, almost painfully, to the point you feel like it might explode._ _ _

___“Cum.”_ _ _

___The single word command falls from his lips against your pussy, sending you crashing into an orgasm as you scream behind the helmet. The images in front of you disappear with a burst of light, your pussy clenching around his fingers as he licks your cunt, tasting you as you cum all over his hand. You tremble as he continues to finger fuck you. The thought of him tasting you makes another, smaller, orgasm rip through your body in a painful aftershock._ _ _

___As your breath quivers, your body gets hit with exhaustion and he removes his mouth. His fingers stay inside you, your pussy clenching them as you ride the tail of the orgasm, and he kisses your hips and then your breasts, pushing your shirt up with one hand that comes to rest at your throat. As he kisses one of your breasts, nipping at your nipple, his fingers leave your pussy, pausing to play with your clit, before coming up to roll your other nipple between them. The slick touch makes you whimper._ _ _

___“Close your eyes,” he whispers and then leaves your body completely, the cold air making you shiver on top of the orgasmic aftershocks still rippling through your nervous system. You feel your pants be pulled up before the helmet is lifted off your head, your eyes clenched shut. His mouth finds yours and you part yours for his tongue, the softness of his lips making you dizzy. He kisses you hard, almost like he needs to feel your mouth just as much as you need to feel his._ _ _

___Your hands come up to his hair at the nape of his neck, the thick curls tangling in your fingers._ _ _

___After what seems like light years, he pulls away, both of you breathing hard and even though you can’t see him, he studies you with brown eyes before whispering, “I’m from Nevarro,” and putting the Beskar back over his head._ _ _


	10. Hangar 3-5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y/N and Peli get to chat and work together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -a little smut for Mando  
> -TW: rape/abuse is implied in reader's past.  
> -I love Peli so much, so I hope you enjoy this bit with her  
> -this is a little longer than usual

Steam seeps out from the refresher, the hot water running as you step in blindly since Mando kept the lights off so that you could shower together. You don’t remember much between him telling you where he’s from and him gently leading you down the ladder, cupping your ass as you came down lazily, still tingling from the multiple orgasms. Only now, as the water runs over your hair, trailing down your back next to his fingers tracing up and down your spine, do you respond to his confession. 

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” 

He sighs against your neck, pulling you closer to him and lining up your bodies. You fit perfectly into his arms, just small enough for them to wrap completely around your waist. “It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t… mean anything.” 

His hesitation makes you pull away, seeking out his face in the dark to kiss him. After a moment, quietly, “It matters to me.” You feel him smile as you kiss his cheeks, his jaw, the strong bridge of his nose. As your lips find his again, you feel his cock harden, pulsing against your thigh. Biting his lip gently, you reach down and wrap your hand around him, feeling proud of the shudder that goes through him, his hands tightening their hold on your hips. “Let me take care of you,” you whisper before pulling away from his lips, a sigh falling from them as you do. 

As you continue stroking him, you can’t help but imagine what he would feel like inside of you. Trailing kisses down his chest, sucking gently and leaving little bruises, you sink to your knees. In the small space, he’s pushed up against the wall, his hands tangling in your hair as you lick and bite at his hip. 

Your name falls from his lips in the smoothest, sexiest voice, making your pussy wet again. 

You flick your tongue against the tip of his cock, tasting the pre-cum that’s already waiting before slowly sliding your mouth over him. He groans, his back arching against the metal behind him as you start sucking, one hand fondling his balls and the other dragging your nails down his chest. You pull your mouth off him, replacing your lips with your hand and turning your attention to his balls, licking at them. The shudder that rips through his body tells you he loves the attention. 

He huffs, his breathing coming fast and heavy, “Let me fuck your mouth.” You nod against his thigh before bringing your mouth to his cock again as he leans over you, one hand supporting his weight against the opposite wall and the other tangled at the back of your head. He’s gentle at first, afraid of hurting you and you dig your fingers into his hips. At the pressure, he starts pounding harder, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat, simultaneously making you wet and making your eyes tear up. He moans, his head falling back and you wish you could see the look of ecstasy on his face as you let him fuck your mouth. “M-maker, I’m gonna… where?” His words are incoherent at best, and you tighten your grip on his hips, communicating to him that you want to taste him. His orgasm rocks through him as you swallow his juices, every pump releasing more. 

His moans echo through the hull and it makes your pussy clench, your mind wandering to what it will sound like when he eventually takes you in the blankets, both of you coming together. 

\--- 

By the time the Razor Crest lands in Hangar 3-5, the child has already thrown multiple tantrums. Mando continuously shakes his head as you try to calm the child down, all of your ideas falling short. After powering down the ship, he scoops the crying child up, his hand lingering on your hip, “He likes Peli.” 

“Someone else can handle him, he’s exhausting,” you say as you descend the ladder from the cockpit. Mando chuckles behind you, following you down while the kid continues to sniffle. 

As the hatch opens, the ramp slowly lowering, small droids scatter. “Get the Hell away from there! He’ll shoot you! Hey!” A small woman in coveralls with frizzy hair waves frantically at the droids as Mando steps out on the ramp. As soon as she spots the big green ears, she’s making grabby hands. “Hey little guy. Big guy, hand him over!” She says it with a smile, but Mando hands over the kid who immediately stops crying, “Aw, is your dad being mean to you?” 

“I’m not- I wouldn’t.” You chuckle at his defensiveness, but immediately stifle your laughter as he turns to look at you. You can almost feel his glare, but somehow you know he’s joking. “Peli, I leave for a hunt in the morning. Can they stay with you?” 

Approaching you, the child grabbing at her coveralls, she smiles, “He’s not one for introductions. What’s your name?” 

“Y/N.” The child’s head swivels toward you, taking you in with his huge black eyes. 

“Great. It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. How’d he manage to get you on the Crest?” Mando huffs behind her, tinkering with a wrench before turning his helmet towards you. 

Pointing at the kid, you chuckle, “Job offer and I had no better place to go.” 

By the look on Peli’s face as she studies you, you can tell she can see right through your short answer, but to your relief she doesn’t push it. As the sun dips, the hangar gets darker and she motions towards inside, “I just made some food, come on.” Before seeing if the two of you follow, she stalks off. 

Mando’s hand lands softly on your lower back, startling you a bit because of how silently he approached. You relax under the slight pressure as he leads you into his friend’s home, feeling the warmth through his glove and your shirt. He doesn’t remove his hand until you move to sit down at a small table, Peli eyeing the interaction across from you, but she doesn’t comment. She just starts dishing out what looks like soup, the child squirming in her lap and cooing, trying to grab things. “So what’s the job?” 

Mando settles at the table but refuses the food Peli puts in front of him, sinking into the chair and spreading his knees, getting comfortable, “A bail jumper. Should be quick.” 

The rest of the evening passes quickly, with Mando watching as you and Peli have idle conversation. You help her clean up as the child sleeps in Mando’s lap, and if it weren’t for the twitch of his helmet every so often, you’d think he had fallen asleep. “There’s a couch through there that I set some blankets on,” she says as she hands you a bowl, “you’re more than welcome to sleep in here if you don’t want to sleep on the ship.” 

Nodding, you thank her before she retreats to her room, leaving the two of you alone in the small kitchen. Mando doesn’t say anything to you as you approach and gently stroke the child’s ear, “What do you want to do?” 

“About?” His helmet tilts back to look at you, and you wish that you could see the color of his eyes under the Beskar. 

Your hand moves to the space where his neck and shoulder meet, just under the helm of his helmet, and you can feel his pulse quicken at the touch, “Where do you want to sleep?” 

He turns to look towards the room with the couch, undoubtedly scanning it with one of the settings in his helmet to see how safe it is, “I’ll stay with you in here, but I probably won’t sleep.” Standing up to his full height, still cradling the child, he reaches out a gloved hand to cup your face, your own hand falling back to your side. He notices the look of sadness in your eyes and quickly understands that you’re worried about him leaving. “I’ll be fine. Now get some rest.” You nod against the leather before letting him lead you to the couch. 

\--- 

You wake up at the soft pinch of the child grabbing at your hair, cooing next to your ear. The cold Beskar that you fell asleep leaning against is gone, and you sigh at his absence. Peli’s shrill voice as she yells at the pit droids gives you the kick in the ass to actually get up, though. Pulling your hair into a messy bun, you make your way outside, the child waddling behind you. Next to the Crest is a pod racer that is covered in rust, but you can’t help but drag your hand over it. The child reaches out, mimicking you. 

“You know your way around an engine?” Peli comes up to stand beside you, her hands on her hips, “There’s an extra jumpsuit if you want to work.” She flicks her thumb over to a tool box, the clothing sitting on top. 

You can’t conceal the excitement that spreads across your face, “Really?” 

She chuckles, “Get to it.” 

Wasting no time, you grab the clothes and head back inside to change. The heat of the planet makes you think twice of zipping the coveralls up, so you decide to leave the shirt portion tied around your waist, with just your tank top on. Quickly lacing your boots back up, you return to where Peli is sitting, a slight bounce in your step. The child is running around the hangar and you can hear his little giggles even though you can’t see him. 

“I haven’t seen one of these in years,” grabbing a tool belt and slinging it around your waist, you take in the pod racer again, making a mental checklist of what work needed to be done. 

Peli’s voice was quieter than normal as she studied you again, “It wasn’t just a job offer was it?” 

You move to sit down on the opposite side of the ship, looking over it at her, before beginning to take off a badly damaged panel. After a few minutes of tinkering, the rusty metal comes off, revealing the wires underneath. “No. It wasn’t,” you sigh. 

“Hmph. What happened?” At the glare you shoot her over, she raises her hands mockingly, “We might as well chat during work or it’ll be a long day.” You know she’s right, and your face softens a bit before ducking your head back down. 

“He took me… Rescued me from an encampment on Arvala-7 about a month and a half ago.” It took you a second to figure out how long it’d been, but that seemed right. “I’d been a prisoner and a fighter there for, hmm - four years?” The familiar feeling of the grease on your hands allowed you to focus on the task at hand, rather than becoming emotional just talking about it. 

“How’d you end up there?” Somewhere to your left, you heard the kid giggle as a droid clunked. You peered over to see the pit droid shielding itself in the sand from the child’s grabby hands. In that moment, you decided that it wouldn’t hurt to tell Peli about the past few years, so you did. 

“I was kidnapped in a raid, the woman who raised me was killed. For a while, I was a prisoner and I honestly don’t know how I survived that… the men were brutal. Eventually, they got word of an encampment that would pay good money for a female fighter.” You lean down to pick up a wrench you dropped, the sun beating down on your bare shoulders and neck. A trail of sweat slides down between your breasts. “I had made a name for myself with my captors. I never allowed them to take me without a fight. I was scrappy.” 

Peli sucked in a gasp, trying - but failing - to hide it, “Oh.” 

Ignoring her, you push on, not wanting to deal with the pity side of this conversation, “Anyways. They brought me to this encampment. By this time, I was skin and bones, probably more purple than tan because of the bruises. But the bandits at the encampment didn’t seem to care much. I remember seeing them exchange money - at that point, I didn’t realize I was actually getting a better deal. I thought they were selling me for, well you know.” The wires buzzed beneath your fingers as you got the connections to work properly. You went on, not looking up, “Anyways. They were still assholes, but at least they didn’t touch me. A few weeks after getting there, I was thrown into the arena for the first time. I won almost every fight, actually I had a perfect record up until the last one. I always got knocked around, but one night I got hit so hard I fractured my ribs. I’m not sure I managed to pull that one off.” Looking up now, you found Peli staring at you. You shrugged, “Two days later, I had a Mandalorian busting me out.” You laughed, trying to lighten the mood. By the look on Peli’s face, she was surprised you were so lighthearted about this. 

“Does he know?” Her question shocks you, and your eyebrows knit together, a scowl marring your face. 

“Know what?” 

She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes, and you can already sense the pity that she’s feeling, but before you can comment on it, she surprises you again. “You should tell him… about before.” 

Shaking your head, you start to argue, “Wh-“ 

“I’ve never seen him be caring to anyone other than the kid. Hell, I’ve really never even seen him show emotion. Through the months I’ve known him, last night was the most he’s ever talked.” She doesn’t break eye contact as she stands up, ready to search for the kid who, from the sounds of it is terrorizing a pit droid again, “He deserves to know.”


	11. Cuyan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was really hard to write. Reader tells Mando about her past. Please put self care first and skip this if need be. TW: rape, trauma, death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -TW: rape, trauma, death  
> -As an abuse survivor, this chapter is extremely important to me and I hope that it brings some light to things that people deal with, fictional and nonfictional. Thank you all for sticking with me through this, and please take care of yourselves while reading this. If anyone would like a recap without reading this chapter, please don't hesitate to ask. Trauma effects all of us differently, and I just want you all as readers to be safe.  
> -I promise the next chapter will be more of the good stuff, but this is a huge part to the reader's story.  
> -xx and love to each and every one of you

The familiar sound of the hatch opening wakes you up later that night and you groggily reach for the baby, only to find him asleep and squished between you and the back of the couch. He coos softly, disturbed by your sudden movement, and you do your best to get up without jostling him more before heading outside. One of the pit lights is on and it gives you a clear view of the bounty that Mando is currently manhandling onto the ship. It’s a young woman, and she doesn’t seem to care that Mando is easily twice her size as she turns around, struggling against him trying to kick at him. Her knee makes contact with his groin and he does his best to not show weakness, but you see him tense before shoving her the rest of the way into the ship. The gas hisses, and you figure it’s safe enough to walk towards the ship, your heart pounding with excitement. He’d been gone less than a day and you already had an ache in your chest from missing him, and worrying about him hunting. 

He meets you at the bottom of the ramp, his helmet tilting towards you. You can’t see his face light up at the sight of you in the t-shirt, his t-shirt, that you’d been sleeping in, your arms crossed over your breasts. His gloved hand reaches out to you, and as soon as you take it he pulls you into his chest, his strong arms holding you up against the cold Beskar. 

Even though your relationship had started to change, the one thing that remained was comfortable silence, and as you led him back inside, you both wordlessly thanked the Maker for that. 

\---

Naturally, Mando isn’t there when you wake up and neither is the child. You take the brief break to freshen up in the sonic shower, doing your best to clean off without water. Unlike the shower in the Crest, it’s not a place you want to stay long and you quickly get out and get dressed. Peli actually has a mirror in her bathroom, and you fuss with your hair for a moment before deciding on a braid. As you make your way through the quaint apartment, you spot a cup of caf on the kitchen counter, a note underneath: "In the hangar with Peli, don’t come into the ship. -M" At first, you’re a bit taken aback, but then you calm your racing thoughts, realizing where they were heading was not likely. The caf isn’t the best, but the warmth spreads through you and eases your anxiety about the information you plan on sharing with Mando. After talking to Peli, you know that she’s right. He does deserve to know. But what strikes you the most is what she said about him and how he acts around you. Smiling into the cup, you take another sip before padding out into the heat of the day. The suns are already high in the sky and it’s blindingly bright. 

A pit droid is trembling on the ground and the child tries to terrorize it, even though he’s half the size of the machine when it’s standing up. His eyes grow larger, something you still are surprised by, when he sees you and begins to waddle toward you as you look around for Mando and Peli. Her shrill voice is coming from inside the hull, and you hear him sighing as one of them bangs on something inside. Scooping the kid up, you approach the door but hesitate, remembering the note. 

Almost like he can sense your presence, Mando steps into view, effectively blocking your path before you can peer inside, “Good morning.” If you didn’t know better, you’d guess he was smirking. “I like this.” He reaches a gloved hand towards your hair, his fingers running down the length of the braid before giving it the smallest tug, sending a whole new warmth through your core. 

Blushing, you step back, achingly aware of the child in your arms watching the interaction, “What are you doing with Peli?” It comes out more shrill than you’d have liked, and he notices the implication right away, tilting his helmet towards you, his hands on his hips. 

“Nothing. I’m taking you on a detour,” he pauses, looking down slightly… almost sheepishly. “I-if you want to go. She said she’ll watch the kid.” 

You can’t help the grin that spreads across your features before whispering, “Just the two of us?” He nods, his hand coming up to tilt your chin up to him as he steps closer, his thumb dragging over your lower lip and making both of you breathe slightly heavier. 

“Just the two of us,” the modulator cracks out his whisper. 

The moment is quickly broken by the sudden fussing in your arms as Peli comes down the ramp, the little womp rat struggling to get to her. “Hey kiddo!” She takes him from your arms, smiling warmly before nodding her head towards a jump speeder suited with bags, “You two better get going.” Mando reaches out to rub the kid’s ear between two gloved fingers before taking your hand. As he mounts the bike, a giddy excitement pools in your belly and you settle behind him, pulling on the leather jacket and scarf that was laying on top of the bags and wrapping your arms around his waist. He doesn’t waste a moment before lurching out of the docking bay and racing towards the dunes, the two suns high above your heads. 

\---

Mos Eisley speeds by, the tan buildings all but blending into the sand colored landscape. You lean your cheek against Mando’s shoulder, his cloak giving a small buffer between your skin and the Beskar. You feel him sigh contentedly and you smile, watching as the sand swirls underneath the speeder. 

After what feels like hours, and judging by the suns probably was, you make out structures in the distance. The closer you get, you start to see the shapes: giant, bulbous rocks that almost look like… mushrooms. You gasp and he chuckles in front of you. “Is that,” you yell over the wind whipping around you, “the Mushroom Mesa?” His helmet nods against the wind, but his modulated voice doesn’t answer you. As he enters the structures looming up on all sides, you let go of his waist and sit up, throwing your arms up, _whooping_ out of joy. In front of you, you hear the most beautiful sound burst the modulator: his laughter. Even with the modulation you can hear how lovely it is, and at that moment you think it’s the best sound you had ever heard but aching for the day you could hear it unobstructed. He races between the rocks for a few more minutes before finding a spot to camp, one that’s easy to guard but also easy to leave. 

__He dismounts from the speeder, taking your hand and squeezing it, “Do you know how to speak Tusken?” You nod, your brow creasing curiously, waiting for him to elaborate. He lets go of your hand, moving to unhook the bags behind you before gesturing widely with a sweep of his arm, “I’m going to set up camp, and you’re going to go ride through here. If anyone stops you, it will be Sand People and I trust you can handle that.” He reaches down to grab a blaster, tucking it into your waistband, “Just in case. Be careful.”_ _

__The smile you give him before speeding away is dazzling._ _

__It had been years since you felt the wind through your hair like this, and it brought tears to your eyes._ _

__The rocks are gorgeous hues of reds and tans, the shapes carved out from millions of years of erosion. You catch glimpses of movement a few times, but nothing stops you as you race through the structures, dodging rocks and leaning with the movements. You don’t know how long it’s been by the time you begin to make your way back to the camp, but the suns are lower and sinking fast._ _

__

__A medium sized fire is burning and there’s a small lean to next to it, blankets spread out under the cover. Mando is waiting for you when you arrive, his hands clasped behind his back and in the dim, soft light, you can’t help but gawk at him. Even with pounds of Beskar on, you’re struck by how handsome he is, though you’ve never seen his face. Smiling sadly as you dismount, you wonder if you ever will._ _

__“How was it?” His question holds the smallest amount of amusement as he leads you to the blankets, sitting down with you and pulling you into him, tossing the blaster in your belt to the side. “You must be starving.”_ _

__Taking the food he hands you, and watching in awe as he lifts his helmet enough to eat without hesitation, the realization of how much he trusts you strikes you suddenly. “It was gorgeous Mando. Thank you.” You lay your hand on the Beskar on his thigh, wishing you could feel his warmth. The rest of the meal passes in pleasant silence, his helmet coming down soon after and before you both settle back to look up at the stars. “Can you identify them? With the helmet?”_ _

__His body shakes with a silent chuckle, “No, but my father taught me a lot of the constellations when I was a boy.” He points some of them out, drawing the shapes with his fingertip as you watch from his side, stricken by the sky. His fingers gesture towards the moon, pointing at each one, “That’s Ghomrassen, Guermessa and the last one is Chenini. Do you see the cloud over us?” He waits for your confirmation before whispering, “Ibac cuyir te ka’ra.”_ _

__“The whole galaxy?” Mando’a lacks a word for galaxy, but you recognize the context in which he uses stars and look at him, only to find him already looking at you._ _

__“Part of it, yes.” You gaze at each other for a few moments before reaching up to cup the side of his helmet, making no movement to remove it and he flinches until realizing it’s not your intention._ _

__“I need to tell you something,” you push the words out before you can think twice. “About before.”_ _

__“Before..?” You’ve never heard him seem so confused and it shocks you before elaborating._ _

“Ner oyay.” _My life._

___He only nods as you remove your hand, turning to look into the flames. Taking a deep breath, you begin._ _ _

___“When I was very young, you know that my home on Nevarro was ambushed during the Clone Wars. The attack wiped out everyone, except me for all I can remember. I remember being put into a cellar with the little boy I used to play with, but he was taken from me and I continued to hide, afraid of the explosions I could hear; the screams were deafening. I waited for hours, too afraid to move from behind the boxes in the dark._ _ _

___“When Teckla finally found me, I was too terrified to speak to her. She carried me through the rubble and she did her best to shield me from seeing-“ you break off abruptly, sucking in a quick breath and trying to calm your nerves. When you start again, you make extra effort to slow down. “She did her best, but I still saw everything. My parents never even made it away from the cellar._ _ _

___“I didn’t talk to her for over a year. She tried so hard to fix things for me, take me in and love me but I wouldn’t let her for so long. Even her last words and her last actions were trying to protect me-“ a sob escapes from your throat, and you shakily wipe tears away from your face, not even realizing you had been crying. You can’t bear to look at him, but you feel his gaze on you as his arm tightens around your waist. “A group of Quarrens attacked our hut in the middle of the night, lighting our house and our neighbors’ on fire. Teckla forced me out of it before I even knew what was going on, but by the time I got to the speeder, it was too late and they killed her right in front of me before shooting at the engine. When I crashed, I vaguely knew what was coming. I had heard the stories._ _ _

___“As the guy slammed me up against the building, there were screams around me, but I wasn’t strong enough to pull away to help. I wasn’t strong enough to fight. So he took me, multiple times as I watched helplessly as people died and women were raped. At some point, I think I lost consciousness, either from the pain or just out of sheer panic. I woke up in a hut surrounded by other women, all of us were bloodied and out of it. No one knew where we were._ _ _

___“I honestly don’t know how long I was there. I just remember the pain,” you take another shaky breath, the tears still rolling down your cheeks but he doesn’t move. “Eventually I was moved to the encampment but I didn’t realize at first that I wasn’t going to be abused anymore. All I saw were these men trading me for money. It was probably the best thing to happen to me at that point though, but I was so weak that I couldn’t fight at first. For weeks, I dealt with verbal abuse as I tried to get better, at least well enough to be in the arena. Part of me knew it would get worse if I didn’t figure out how to get in there.”_ _ _

___You laugh a humorless laugh, “Red is actually the one who helped.”_ _ _

___He spoke so softly you barely heard him, “Red?”_ _ _

___“The bounty you went back for. She’s the only one that stayed the same over the years. Even though she was horrible, she was the only one who I knew through it. She saved me in some ways.” Gazing into the flames, you huff, “Dank Farrick. How messed up is that?”_ _ _

___Making no move to leave your side, he stares at you quietly. You wish you could see his eyes. “Say something,” you whisper, suddenly afraid of his silence and what it might mean. You curse yourself, terrified of the repercussions of giving him this information._ _ _

___His next words bring new tears to your eyes, “Cyare, gar cuyir cuyan.”_ _ _

_Beloved, you are a survivor._


	12. The First Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's finally happening y'all. Reader and Mando have a steamy and sweet bedroom moment, told from his POV. This chapter is from his POV, and gives a little insight to the man behind the mask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -SMUT  
> -implied infertility (more on this later)  
> -the next chapter will be a bit sad, so I hope this makes up for it  
> -lmk if y'all like his POV and if you want more in the future
> 
> -ALSO this fic is totally not following the canon timeline, and I may write another in the future for Mando, but there are going to be some canon (ish) timeline fics I'll be posting soon for other characters

Mando holds you as you both watch the stars, the fire sputtering as it gets smaller and smaller. At some point, he had removed his gloves in order to wipe away your tears and even though you had stopped crying, they lay forgotten on the ground next to him. His heart ached while you told him your story, but now it ached for other reasons. Reasons he wishes he could tell you, but fear continues to hold him back. Fear of breaking his Creed. 

You’re quiet as you move into his side more, his arm tightening around your waist. He can tell by your breathing that you’re still awake but he’s comfortable in his thoughts and doesn’t break the silence. 

Your confession confirmed what he already knew, proves to him that he was right in his actions to go back for you. His whole being feels like it’s alive for the first time since he was a child, thanks to you. He realizes he wants to bear his soul to you in the same way you have to him. The Mandalorians have a word for this: _ki’manir._

But this would go against everything he had been taught. As his mind mills over how to tell you everything, how to show you everything, he realizes all he can do is ask. 

The rest is up to you, if you want to accept.

The next few hours blur together after you finally fall asleep in his embrace, and he smiles under the helmet as he watches the night unfold. 

“Goodmorning mesh’la,” he whispers through the modulator as you stir against him, the fire long put out and the suns ascending further into the sky. “I believe it is time for you to see the surprise.”

You make a noise that’s somewhere between a whimper and a giggle as you sit up to plant a kiss on the Beskar, approximating where his mouth is, “Do I deserve that after-“

He cuts you off, pulling you on top of him to straddle his hips. “Y/N, you deserve everything. Don’t ever doubt that… I will do everything in my power to give it to you.” Mando leans his forehead against yours, wishing for the millionth time that he could do it without Beskar creating a barrier. 

When he pulls into the Hangar in early afternoon, Peli and the kid are nowhere to be seen and he feels the familiar panic start to bubble in his stomach. By the time he swings his leg away from the jump speeder, you’re already halfway to the office, the windows covered in dirt. He watches as you rap your knuckles against one of the windows once, Peli’s shrill voice erupting soon after. “I’m up! I’m awake!” The child’s cries erupt next. As soon as he’s in your arms, he stops crying. 

“Peli,” the modulator cracks slightly, “is it ready?” She gestures for Mando to follow and he holds up a hand, silently asking for you to stay behind for a moment. Following Peli up the ramp, the ship doesn’t immediately look different, but he notices the small shift in the length of the hull. A new door is at the front, directly beneath the cockpit and the small area that the cot slid into is no longer there. 

“I created another place for a tiny cot… for the baby,” Peli explains, pressing a button on the wall next to the ladder. A panel opens up a space that’s about 3 feet by 3 feet, a small pad inside with blankets, ready for the child. Mando eyes the new door, hesitating before Peli nudges at the Beskar on his shoulder, “Well go look. Maker, don’t make her wait all day.” He finally reaches out, turning the small knob as Peli steps back, giving him space. Inside is a dimly lit space with a bed and small side table, as well as a carved out area in the wall. He studies it for a moment, realizing that the shelves are spaced out to fit his Beskar as if it was on his body, organized in a way making it so they would be easy to grab and put on. Turning to the bed, a flutter begins in his stomach and his heart pounds harder as he starts to think about what this means for the two of you. He waits a moment, trying to calm his nerves before returning to Peli.

“It’s good,” he hands her a bag of credits, hoping the crack in his voice is hidden by the modulator, but Peli laughs, seeing right through him. 

“Yeah, yeah. You’re welcome.” She laughs again, turning to exit the ship.

“Peli, thank you,” her smile is the only indication she hears him.

As you come into view, you catch his eye, silently questioning what you two were up to, but Peli steps in before you can ask, “The big guy has somewhere to be, so let me say bye to the kid.” Handing her the little gremlin, you turn towards Mando, but he’s occupied with moving the bags from the jump speeder to the ship. He doesn’t give it away that he can hear you from across the bay.

“Peli,” you say quietly, “thank you for the other day. For talking.”

He listens intently, waiting for Peli’s response but when it doesn’t come, he realizes she was the one who helped you decide to tell him. Just like she is the one who mentioned the addition to the hull. Slightly shaking his head, the helmet hiding the movement, he finishes packing and does his best to ignore anything else from the conversation outside, quickly shutting off the hearing in his helmet as he goes back into the ship. 

Having all of the bounties, he climbs up to the cockpit, his back spasming underneath his armor. Groaning into the silence of the cockpit, he punches in the coordinates to Nevarro, simultaneously starting the engine of the Razor Crest. 

Dropping down into the hull, he stands at the top of the ramp, waiting for you and the child, who torments a pit droid briefly before waddling inside. As he watches you talk to Peli, he can’t help but notice the glow of your skin in the light from the suns, the way you bite your lip as you think of your responses, the way you reach out to squeeze Peli’s arm before pulling the small woman into a hug. He even notices the tears that escape your eyes before quickly wiping them away after saying goodbye. As you walk up the ramp, he quickly clicks the hearing back on in the helmet before waving towards Peli who smiles back before turning to yell at the small droids. The child looks up at him before Mando scoops him up, holding him against the Beskar and closing the hatch. 

\--- 

Later, after the Crest has been flying through hyperspace for a while, you leave the cockpit, and he hears the shower start. The child is asleep in his arms, and once he knows you’re in the water, Mando drops into the hull and opens the new crib space. The kid has his metal ball clutched in his hands and coos as the blankets are tucked around him.

He knocks once on the refresher door, startling you before speaking in a low voice, “When you’re done, come through the door at the front of the hull.” He doesn’t wait for your response, knowing you’ll probably stay in the hot water for a while longer. 

Mando investigates the room a bit more as he puts away your bags and clothes, realizing that Peli made cabinets for you both. Methodically, he starts taking off his armor and putting it onto its rightful shelves. With each piece, he finds his mind wandering to his plans for when you enter the room. 

Right pauldron: He would slowly pull the towel away from your body, letting his fingers wander…

Left thigh: He would lay you down on the bed, whispering sweet nothings while doing so…

Gloves: He would make you fall apart in his hand, kissing your body as you tremble…

Mando hears the shower shut off just as he finishes undressing, his helmet still on in the dim light as he lays in the bed. He fiddles with the sheet, the only thing covering his naked hips, suddenly nervous about the fact that he plans on making love to you for the first time.

He had had sex before, ages ago, and had always enjoyed it. But it was always rough and quick, something he reveled in but always left him wanting more. As much as he wanted to tease you for hours, withholding and making you tremble underneath him, he knew he didn’t want the first time to be like that with you. Especially after your confession. Knowing that it would break his Creed to bear his soul to you, he knew this is the only way he could do it at this moment in time. Until you agreed to be his wife, he wouldn’t be able to do it any other way but this, with touch. 

The thought of asking you to be his wife sent shivers down his spine: _Was it too soon? Did you know who he truly was? Would you even want to have a life with him after he left you in that cold, dark-_

The door opening cut off his train of thought and his breathing hitching as he takes you in, skimming over your naked body as you drop the towel just inside the room. He notices your own breathing stop when he stands up to his full height, the sheet dropping from his waist as he comes over to you, “Surprise, mesh’la.” He reaches out for your hip, pulling you into him, his cock twitching against your stomach. Turning you around in his arms, he closes the door, leading you forward and pressing into your back simultaneously. He hears you hum at the closeness of him as you look around the room. 

“Mando… you did this?” Your voice is soft and you try to hold back the emotion in it.

“I had help,” your thighs are pressed against the bed now, his cock achingly hard as he gently guides you to lay down. “Close your eyes for a minute.” You do it without hesitation and the action turns him on even more. He wishes he didn’t have to ask you not to look, but the thought in the back of his mind that one day he won’t have to gives him enough self control to not break his Creed right now in this moment. 

You hear him as he places his helmet somewhere, but don’t see how gentle he lays it in the space Peli created for it. A soft sound echoes through the room, before he kneels between your legs at the edge of the bed and pulls you forward so that your ass is on the edge. “You can open your eyes now,” he feels you tremble as his hot breath rolls over your clit, his lips close to you. He nips at your hip in the pitch black before teasing you with a finger, your body tightening and already starting to quiver. He wishes he could see you in the darkness as you gasp, his finger entering your wet folds. “Mesh’la,” he whispers against your thigh, causing you to whimper, your hands coming up to tangle in his hair. 

Mando dips his head, his tongue softly pressing against your clit before removing his finger and tongue only to return seconds later, dragging it between your folds and making your hips buck. Tasting you makes him moan and he doesn’t think he will ever get tired of making you tremble beneath him like this. He repositions himself so that your legs are bent over his shoulder and he has full access to your pussy. Your moans echo through the dark room, your fingers tightening in his hair as his fingers return to you, teasing your entrance before dipping in and curling, hitting the spot that makes you thrust your hips into his hand. He catches your clit gently between his lips, sucking and making you whimper, your thighs clenching on either side of his head softly. His other hand cups your ass, pulling you deeper into him as he assaults your clit with expert movements of his tongue. His fingers speed up their pace, your pussy tightening and signaling that you’re close. You moan again, arching your back and he pauses his movements momentarily before flattening his tongue against your clit. The pressure sends you over the edge and he curls his fingers inside you, dragging the orgasm out as you breathe heavy and tremble, coming apart in his hand. 

When you finally can breathe again, he gently puts your legs back on the bed and kisses his way up your stomach, across your breasts and gently nips your jaw before kissing your lips. Your tongue traces his bottom lip and he knows you can taste yourself. His tongue dips into your mouth, slowly circling yours before pulling away, “Are you-“

“We’re safe.” You already know what he’s asking, but you don’t want to get into that conversation right now so you gloss over the subject. “Please…”

As he positions himself between your legs, you trail off and feel the tip of his cock teasing at your entrance. He enters you slowly, achingly so and revels at the warmth and softness of your pussy as you stretch for him. He leans over you as you wrap your legs around his waist, one hand at the side of your head and the other softly resting at the base of your throat as he kisses you. The kiss is deep, both of you breathing heavy as he starts to move against you, his hips picking up a slow but even pace. You feel so good, clenching around his cock with every movement, a growl tearing from his throat at the sensations, his vision going gray at the edges. He has to mentally berate himself, reminding himself that this isn’t a quick and hard sex session, but your next words take him by surprise.

“Fuck me,” you whisper against his lips. He grunts, his hand tightening just a bit, and your moan makes him loosen his self control. He picks up his pace, your legs tightening against his hips and your nails dragging down his back. The thought of having your scratches on him tomorrow makes his body tighten, the familiar feeling of ecstasy rolling over him in waves and he knows he’s about to cum. You tighten around him as he moans against your lips, your own moan mixing with his in a primal and beautiful way. “Maker…” you start to tremble, your orgasm ripping through you as he pounds into you twice more before succumbing to the heat pooling between his hips. He removes his hand, holding both your wrists above your head as you quiver beneath him, both of you breathing raggedly as you come undone together, both of your orgasms ripping through your bodies with intense heat and pleasure. He moans, the last of his orgasm sending one more shockwave through him as you tighten once more around his cock, his cum filling you up.

He can’t help the words that tumble from his mouth when he finally pulls out of you, pulling you both under the covers and grasping you in his embrace, “Ner kar’taylir darasuum.” 

_My love._


	13. Message from a Droid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angsty sex, sad Mando, death. This was supposed to be a story chapter, but I split it into two, so enjoy a little smut before some revelations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -I apologize for how long this took to get out, I got injured on a snowboarding trip and school started so I've been busy. I plan on starting to upload on Wednesdays regularly. Tomorrow there will be another chapter.  
> -A Javi series is coming soon too ;)

The next day, as the stars streak through hyperspace outside and the child sits in your lap, cooing as he tugs at your hair, an erratic beeping fills the cockpit. Mando quickly climbs the ladder, coming into the small space and sitting down to your left. He signals for you to be quiet, slightly startled by the sudden com message. You do your best to quiet the baby as a hologram of a droid pops up, and you have a sinking feeling as you realize whose droid it is. 

“Mandalorian, Kuiil programmed my unit to send you a message when he died. Upon receiving this hologram, return to Arvala-7. He has left further instructions at his residence.” The message cuts out with a bit of static, and you hear Mando’s sharp intake of breath. His shoulders stiffen, but he remains still in the pilot’s seat. The child struggles against your arms, trying to move towards his father, but you hold him against your chest as you watch Mando. He punches in the coordinates, his movements increasingly jerky. It’s a startling view since you’re used to his movements being smooth and calculated. You begin to reach towards him, but he pushes your hand aside as soon as the Crest is locked in and heading towards Kuiil’s farm. 

Downstairs, you hear a loud bang once Mando reaches the hull and the child jumps in your arms, his wide eyes staring up at you. You silently shake your head at him, cradling him against you as his dad continues to make noise below. 

Eventually, the child starts to fall asleep, and your mind wanders about the tiny family unit that this has become:  _ Is it too soon to feel that way? _ A part of you says that it isn’t, but you feel anxious about the thought. A tiny gasp brings you back to the present, and you make your way down to the hull, the kid passed out in your grasp. He coos softly when you lay him in his small cot before entering the bedroom. 

“Mando?” It’s pitch black, and you stumble towards the bed, latching the door behind you. You can tell by his breathing that he’s awake, but he doesn’t answer you as you strip off your pants and clamber under the covers. “Hey,” your voice is quiet as you reach out to find his face.

He leans into your touch, the dampness on his cheeks startling you, “He should have come with me when I asked.”

You blanch, taken aback by the emotion in his voice. “What are you talking about?”

“I could have protected him,” he pulls you onto his chest, one of his hands cupping your head to the pulse point in his neck. 

“Cyare,” you whisper, “we don’t even know what happened. This isn’t something you could have prevented.” He stiffens beneath you, the circles he was drawing on your neck with his thumb stilling.

“You don’t know that.” 

The bluntness shouldn’t surprise you, but you flinch a little at his voice, remaining quiet as you continue to cup his cheek. It had been months since you heard that tone, the softness he usually speaks to you with is missing. It makes you ache, makes you wish you could reach into his soul and pull out the hurt he is obviously feeling. But you can’t.

Instead, you kiss his pulse point softly, feeling its pace increase under your lips. It wasn’t your intention, but you feel his cock harden against your thigh, so you lightly suck at his neck, leaving little marks. His breathing hitches, and you begin to slide down his body, kissing his collar bones, his chest and his stomach. He stops you, his strong hands gripping your biceps, before you get to his waist, “No.” You immediately stop, blushing in the darkness at the idea that you misunderstood his wants. But before you can fully become embarrassed, he gently moves you off of him, tearing your shirt off, before laying over your back as you lay on your stomach. He kisses his way down your spine, the shivers increasing as he moves lower. He bites at the curve of your ass before kneeling between your knees and roughly pulling your hips up, your panties being slid down your legs by his large hands. Your back is painfully arched so that your ass and pussy are on full display from behind, your breasts and shoulders pleasantly pushed into the bed, the sheets creating friction on your nipples, making them hard. 

You cry out as his large hand connects with your ass, hard enough to leave a mark, and you bite down on your lip before whimpering. His hands fully leave you, the seconds ticking by before his tongue dips into your pussy from behind. The moan that rips from your throat normally would make you red-faced, but he sinks two fingers into you before you can think anymore about it.

You’re already so wet for him that its obscene sounding. He finger fucks you for minutes, never stopping the quick pace or removing his mouth from you, either licking your folds or biting at your hips and ass. You’re on the verge of coming, grasping at the sheets and doing your best to moan into the pillow, careful not to wake the baby, when he stops all together. You groan, pushing your hips back at him, begging for more. 

You cry out once more as he slams into you, the searing pleasure of his cock being sheathed inside you pushes you over the edge and into a blazing orgasm. You feel his arm wrap around you, his palm resting at the palm of your throat, as he pulls you up into his chest, slamming into you. The sounds you both make as you clench around him are vulgar, and you can tell he won’t last much longer. The hand on your throat tightens as his fingers find your clit, another orgasm riding on the tails of the first. He doesn’t stop, keeping up the pace on your clit and your pussy, his cock finding the exact spot you need as you yell out for him to continue, your vision wavering, “Mesh’la, say you’re mine.” His voice is hard to focus on, your body trembling, “Say it.”

“I-I’m yo-yours,” you cry out at the gruffness of his command, finally reaching your climax as you feel his hips stutter against you before he comes. You collapse together, breathing heavy. 

As you sink into sleep, you hear him whisper against your shoulder, “Mesh’la, you are my moon. I belong to you.”

When the Crest lands near Kuiil’s moisture farm, the child is visibly upset by the emotions he can feel rolling off of you and Mando. Since last night, Mando hasn’t spoken to you but you caught him watching you as you moved slowly around the ship this morning and as you fed the child. You noticed the heavy breath he took as he watched you grimace when you slowly sat down in the copilot’s chair, holding the kid in your lap during the landing. 

Now, standing at the top of the ramp, the child’s big eyes glance between you and his dad, who takes off towards the enclosure first and opens the gate. You watch as he shoos the Blurgs away, the roughness of his voice making your heart sink. 

You’ve always known that he is a harsh man, a person shaped by his job and his past, though you don’t know exactly what that is yet. But seeing it firsthand, especially without him beating up a bounty, shocks you. The only time he’s ever been like this is around people who try to hurt you, and at most he’ll be short with other people. But it’s just you and the kid, so this scares you, making you flinch away from the man you’ve grown to love over the past few months. The little hand grabbing at your hair pulls you out of your thoughts, and you look down at him, trying to catch your breath.  _ This is Mando, he’s just hurt, he’s still the same man he’s always been, _ you remind yourself.

As he continues to get the Blurgs to disperse, you make your way into Kuiil’s house, the droid greeting you at the door. “Where is the Mandalorian?” It’s animatronic voice makes you shiver, but you point behind you to where he stands and the droid leaves you. The house is quiet, too quiet, and it finally hits you that Kuiil is gone. You wonder where he’s buried, or what the droid did with him, and set the child down on a couch, his wide eyes never leaving your face as you walk around the hut searching for anything that could be a clue as to what happened. You find a very old picture, worn from the sun and sand, of Kuiil and a woman. They’re both smiling and he has his arms around her. You don’t even realize you’re crying until the kid is tugging at your pants, whining up at you. Scooping him up, you sink into the chair he had been in and let the tears flow freely. He nuzzles against your chest, doing his best to comfort you with his tiny body and tiny hands. 

A small creaking noise makes you eventually look up to find Mando looking at you, and you realize the kid is asleep, the tears on your cheeks mostly dry. You don’t know how long you’d been sitting there, but he comes over to you and kneels between your legs, his large, gloved hand resting on your thigh. He caresses your face before speaking in a low voice, “Kuiil left messages for me with the droid. He’s uploading it to the crest and then we can leave if you want to.”

“D-did he say how…”

Mando sighs, letting the helmet fall to his chest but never taking his hand from your cheek, “Stormtroopers came looking for him. For the kid.” You both look at the little green body curled against your chest, and he sighs in his sleep, his ears twitching. “We can’t stay here.”

“We can’t just leave it. We can’t leave him.”

He shakes his head, “The droid buried him, I was going to ask if you want to go out there… with me. Please.” The raw emotion in his voice makes your breath catch, realizing he is asking you to support him. To protect him from this hurt. “We can come back to take care of the farm sometimes. We can visit him… Right?”

You start crying again, pulling the large man toward you, wanting with your whole soul to make the hurt stop for him. “Yes. Yes of course,” you whisper against the Beskar, and you feel his body shake a little before he pulls out of your embrace and drags you to your feet, making sure not to jostle the baby. “Wait,” you grab the picture again before following him out into the hot suns. He notices it and takes it from you, staring at it for a moment before sighing and taking your hand again. 

Outside, the droid waits near the Crest and then leads you to the grave, Kuiil’s helmet laying at the head of it. The three of you stand in silence before the baby stirs in your arms, and you put him down. He waddles over to the mound of dirt, laying his large head and tiny body down against it, his eyes closing as he cuddles the grave. You look at Mando, but you can’t tell what he’s thinking under the helmet as he watches the suns start sinking.

  
  



	14. The Are Others

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We finally find out who Mando is for sure, with some angst and smut along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -I'll be updating on Wednesday at 7pm from here on out xx  
> -LMK if there are any warnings I missed for this one  
> -Javi and Frankie series coming soon xx

You’re both quiet as the Crest jolts through hyperspace, afraid to play the recording the droid had uploaded. You put the child in his nook hours ago, after playing with him in the hull for a while. You can’t remember what the next planet is that the ship is heading towards so you remain quiet, stoic even, next to the silent suit of Beskar. 

Some time later, he reaches for you and you jolt awake, unaware you’d fallen asleep, “Are you okay?” The words tumble out of your mouth quickly, unable to be stopped. His cloak is draped over you, the cockpit cold as the stars streak by above the glass. You let him pull you up into his arms and he crushes you against his chest which is heaving underneath the breast plate. You try to pull away, to look up at his visor. “Mando what’s going on? Is it the child? Is it-“

“I listened to the message,” is all he says. You stare up at him, waiting for him to elaborate but he doesn’t; he just looks down at you. 

After a few moments like this, you plead with him, “Please talk to me. Don’t shut me out.”

“I’m doing the opposite,” is all he says as he backs away and sits down, gesturing for you to do the same.

“What-“

He holds up his hand, silencing you, and you watch him as his shoulders fall, leaning back. His next words are whispered, barely intelligible through the modulator, “There are others.”

“Others…” Your mind reels:  _ Other green babies? Other Mandalorians? Other people like Kuiil? Other women? Other what? _

“Like me, y/n.” He sounds broken, scared… surprised. “I always knew there must be, but the ones I know are in hiding. They were in the sewers of Nevarro but the covert moved because of me.” He sighs, and you wait for him to go on, watching intently. “Kuiil said they are a cult. In his message, he said that-he said that of my people.”

“A cult? Thats ridicu-“

“It’s true,” the finality of his tone makes you blanch and he briefly reaches out to you as he sees your expression, but quickly drops his hand. His next words are spoken like a confession, and you can’t tear your eyes away from the helmet as he speaks, “When I was a child on Nevarro, my village was attacked and up until recently I thought I was the only person to survive. I hid in a cellar with a little girl, a friend… but I left her. I was lifted out of the cellar by a Mandalorian, the carnage continuing around me as he took me from her. I hid her, afraid of what would happen to her if they found her. I didn’t realize I was being saved, so I left her.” He looks up at you as you gasp slightly, connecting the dots, but he pushes forward with his story, the words coming faster now. “I was trained to fight, to kill. I’ve been doing it since that cellar and I thought it was the only thing left for me. The Tribe raised me to never show my face. That is the creed. The way. We follow the Way of the Mandalore. We’re warriors. But there are others.”

He finally allows you to speak, looking at you and you search for his eyes through the vizor, hoping to meet them, “That doesn’t sound like a cult to me.” 

He cuts you off again, “The others might not be like me. I had heard rumors… rumors of Mandalorians who removed their helmets. Who lived normal lives. Kuiil gave me names. In his message, he said there is a group called the Death Watch. He said they could help me. Help us.” He looks down at his clasped hands, his elbows resting on his knees as he leans forward. “There’s a woman named Bo-Katan that Kuiil said could help us.”

The silence stretches out between you, both of you aware of what his confession means. The information sinks into your soul, firing synapses you thought had been ruined a long time ago and though there’s much more pressing questions you want to ask, you decide to stick to a simplistic one, afraid of scaring the man in front of you. “How do we find her?”

He shakes his head slightly, almost shyly, “Kuiil left coordinates of the last place he knew they were, but it’s a long shot. My people, we like to move.” He stand to his full hight suddenly, looming over you as you crane your neck upwards. “Come with me.”

“Of course I will,” your brow furrows, confused at his command. Where did he think you’d go; did he think you’d leave?

“No, come with me right now,” his voice is softer as he pulls you to your feet, for the second time that night, and crushes you to his chest. You breath out an agreement, your hands resting on the cold pauldrons on his shoulders. He leads you to the ladder before descending, watching you as you follow, knowing you can feel his gaze on your ass. “Can I?” He asks when you step down in front of him, and you nod. Without waiting another second he hauls you up into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you toward the bedroom, flinging the door open with one arm, his other supporting your weight. He sets you down at the foot of the bed, instructing you to undress slowly, his heavy gaze never leaving you from under the helmet. He stands extremely still as you drop your clothing to the floor, his breath heavy and uneven. Once you’re naked, you step towards him, increasingly aware that the last time he saw you naked in the light was when he dropped the towel from around your breasts. You flush as you reach towards him and start to undo the Beskar. He lets you, just watching as you take away his armor, figuratively and metaphorically. He reaches up to stroke your mouth with a gloved thumb before slowly sliding it between your lips and you groan at the intrusion before gently biting the leather and pulling. He slides his hand out before pulling the other glove off and reaching down to tease your clit. He stops the second you moan, removing his hand and reaching down to pull his shirt off. His tan skin glows under the soft light of the bedroom and you let your eyes wander to the trail that disappears into his pants. Without much thought, you slip your fingers into the waistband, gently pulling downwards as you sink to your knees in front of him, his cock springing up when it’s no longer constricted by the fabric. He hisses as you reach the floor, his pants around his calves and he smoothly kicks his boots off, the pants following. Before you can lean forward to take him in your mouth, he’s pulling you to your feet and pushing you towards the bed, his cock poking against your stomach. 

“Close your eyes.” You do as he says, letting him guide you backwards onto the bed and scooting upwards so your head is on the pillows. You hear the familiar hiss of the helmet being removed, and then his mouth as he kisses the top of your foot, trailing up your leg and over your hip. He nibbles at your stomach, whispering sweet nothings against your skin as you shiver beneath his breath. You hum when his fingertips pause near your ribs, ghosting over your birthmark. He sucks at your nipple, his hand cupping your other breast as you arch into his touch. When he reaches your pulse point and sucks hard enough to leave a bruise on your neck, you gasp, feeling the warmth pool between your legs.

“I thought I lost you,” he whispers against your neck and in that moment, you swear to the Maker that you feel the stars collide as every single cell in your body sparks to life. 

“You’re mine,” he moves in between your legs, and you open for him, welcoming him into you, begging to be one. “You’re still my best friend. You’ve always been with me, in my heart, y/n.” 

You gasp as he moves inside you, slowly at first but then steadily, his hands entwining with yours above your head. He kisses you, hard and passionately. You arch into him, wanting to be closer to him and he wraps an arm around your middle, his hand pulling the small of your back upwards, your hips moving together. 

“When I found out you were in that encampment, when I found the kid, I knew I couldn’t leave you again,” your gasps mingle with his as he continues to confess to you, his pace never faltering. “I’d come back for you over and over. I’m sorry it took so long.”

You have to force yourself to keep your eyes closed, wanting so badly to look into the brown eyes staring down at you with heavy lids. Between gasps you manage to get a few words out, “I’m here now.”

He groans at your admission, sucking another mark onto your neck and making you tremble. He kisses you again, the movements frenzied and bruising, but loving all the same. His movements become erratic, both of you close to orgasming but trying to drag out the pleasure of this moment. When he lets go of your hand, his arm still holding you against him, you rake your nails over his shoulders and back, making him moan at the mixture of pain and pleasure. His other hand tangles into your hair, tugging gently. You gasp against his shoulder as he hits the pleasure point inside of you, and he continues to move against it, feeling you come undone beneath him. Goosebumps raise on your skin at the sensation and your legs tremble as you wrap them around his waist, hooking your ankles together. You weave your fingers into his hair, pulling him down to you, kissing him hungrily, dipping your tongue into his mouth. Your moans mix with his as you begin to clench around him, both of you on the edge.

“Y/n,” he breaths out against your lips and it pushes you into the searing light of the orgasm. Your whole body burns white hot as you cry out for him, trembling in his arms, and seconds later you feel him pump inside of you, filling you as he groans against your mouth, kissing you heavily. He collapses on top of you momentarily before rolling over and pulling you on top of him, his cock still inside you. You lay against his chest, both of you breathing heavy and shaking. He’s quiet for a few moments before whispering, “Say it.”

You adjust your head, making sure you’re safely in the curve of his neck before opening your eyes, the flutter of your lashes against his pulse point making him shiver. He stiffens slightly, but you reassure him by laying your palm against his cheek, making sure to stay in a position that you can’t see his face. 

“I’ve missed you, Din.”


	15. Marks and Legends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din and y/n finally meet Bo-Katan, but there is some angst along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -This is NOT an Alpha/Omega fic, I promise it will be explained as to what all of it means.  
> -No smut sorry  
> -TW: some anxiety, almost panic attack, arguing  
> -Next chapter is going to have lots of arguing/angst and hopefully some answers for y/n  
> -I'm really sorry I didn't update last week, school and work has really gotten the best of me and I needed self care time. I'm going to try to update again before Wednesday and then on Wednesday again. xx

For the first time since you’ve joined Din on the ship, you wake up before him. You do your best to find clothes in the dark room, afraid of seeing his face even though the curiosity makes your heart ache. The fact that you know what color his eyes are makes you warm inside, your heart beating rapidly at the thought. He stirs slightly as you slip out the door to check on the child on the way. His green ears peek out of the bundle of blankets, but he’s still fast asleep and you thank the Maker for some alone time as you head to the refresher. The steam fills up the small face quickly, and the hot water feels like heaven against the various marks bruising your skin from the night before. Smiling at the thought, you sing lowly and lather yourself up in Din’s soap, the scent wafting through the steel room. The minutes drag on, finally being interrupted by a rapt knock, “Close your eyes, mesh’la.” The door slides open as you follow the command, jumping slightly when his hands encircle your waist. “I wanted to kiss you one more time before we land on Trask. You left without doing so.”

You giggle slightly, encircling your hands around has shoulder and pulling him down towards you, “You’re just mad that I got up before you.” He scoffs his reply as his lips find yours. The moment is cut short by a low beeping emitting from the cockpit, and you lightly push him away, rinsing. He sighs behind you but doesn’t stop you as he continues showering.

Once dressed, you grab the kid, waking him up gently, and climb up to the controls, “Hey kiddo, ready to land?” He babbles incoherently as you sit him down in the seat and buckle him up. Dropping out of hyperspace, you maneuver the Crest through Trask’s atmosphere as smoothly as you can without jolting the man downstairs around. “Your dad must’ve set the nav yesterday, huh?” The kid stares at you with giant black eyes before launching into a fit of giggles at the mention of his dad.

“I set it after I listened to the message.” You jump at the modulated voice while he unbuckles the kid and sits down before buckling again. His gaze through the vizor is heavy on you as you handle the controls, radioing into the port as you prepare for landing. He watches your fingers dance over the control board and the way you confidently grip the handles of the steering column.

“Oh,” the word comes out hushed as the Crest hits land and you shut off the engines. “What now?” You risk glancing at him, but he’s still looking at you, the heat of his gaze making you achingly aware of the distance between you.

“I… I guess we find this Bo-Katan woman.” You follow him down to the hull, taking the baby from him as he opens up the armory and tucks a blaster into your waistband, “Just in case.” You nod, suddenly nervous about this. He’s quiet as he pushes the button to lower the ramp and you tuck the child into his pram before following Din outside. He pushes some credits into the port attendant’s hand, speaking in the native tongue and telling him what maintenance the Crest needs before putting his hand on your back and leading forward with a nod of his helmet.

Trask is noisy, the port full of different species milling about on boats and on the pier. A Quarren merchant steps out from behind his cart and comes toward you, causing you to completely stop in the middle of the walkway. Your breathing increases and you can sense the panic rising in your core, your heart thrumming loudly. Din almost walks into your back before realizing you’re panicking and pulling you away, simultaneously snarling at the man.

“Hey,” he pulls you into an alley, the few people in it scattering at the site of his Beskar, “look at me.” One gloved hand comes up to cup your chin, the other resting on your waist. You grasp at his forearms with shaky hands, breathing deeply and trying to settle the panic at the trigger of having a Quarren so close to you.

 _That poor merchant did nothing wrong,_ you think.

“Y/n, it’s okay. I’m right here,” Din’s hand moves up to cup your cheek, his voice low and calming even under the modulation. “It was just a merchant, I would never let anything happen to you. It’s okay. I’ve got you.” He whispers the last bit, his helmet coming down to gently rest against your forehead as your breathing finally slows to a normal pace.

“I’m sorry,” your voice is shaky as you finally release the death grips you have on his arms.

He chuckles, “You never need to be sorry. I’ve got you. You’re safe, I promise.” Din pulls away and you shyly smile up at him, embarrassed for the moment of panic before he speaks again, “Ner kar’taylir darasuum, don’t ever apologize to me for that.” In that moment, you realize he can sense how you’re feeling and you nod, before tilting to catch the visible sliver of skin at his wrist with a kiss. He looks at you for a moment, giving you time to calm down fully before he nods once and replaces the light pressure on your back, moving you out of the alley and forward to whatever fate lies with Bo-Katan.

The cantina is dimly lit, but it’s easy to find them since their helmets sit on the table between them. There’s two women and a man, all of which look up the minute the pair of you enter the door. The kid sense the tension and closes his pram with a quick little green hand. Whispering to Din, you point out the obvious fact that they’ve removed their helmets but he shushes you quietly and moves forward. A little taken aback, you follow with slight annoyance marring your face.

“Are you Bo-Katan Kryze?” Din doesn’t even bother to introduce himself as he reaches the table, his modulated voice coming out curious but accusatory. The dark skinned woman smirks, slurping at the tentacle hanging out of her mouth. You grimace a little at the food, but just cross your arms and try to look intimidating next to the mountain of metal beside you.

The redhead looks uninterested, “Who’s asking?”

“I’m a friend of Kuiil’s.” She raises an eyebrow at this, gesturing for you both to sit down; you both oblige, Din albeit stubbornly.

“Why don’t you have a drink with us,” she pushes the spotchka towards Din but he remains stoic. “You’re a Child of the Watch.”

He stares at her, an imperceptible tilt of his helmet the only movement he makes.

“What’s that?” You blurt, eager to learn more. Immediately you feel guilty when Din’s shoulders tense, but you continue to watch Bo-Katan, who turns to you.

“They’re a sect of Mandalorians who follow the way of the old… A cult, if you will. Their foundlings are taught they may never be seen once they take the Creed.” She inclines her head towards Din, “Tell me, have you ever seen your lover’s face?”

You blanch and Din begins to speak, but she cuts him off, gesturing for you to answer. “N-no. But that’s his Creed, that is the way, is it not?”

Her eyes look sad as she studies you, “It was the way. Many years ago. But that Creed is the way of the old. The way of the new doesn’t have to be a secret.” She turns to him then, inclining her head again, “You do not have to be a secret, Mandalorian.” Din is silent as she sips her drink, but the other woman clears her throat. You don’t miss the small movement from Bo-Katan insuring she has a right to talk, and you wonder passively if she’s their leader.

“Are you marked by the moon?”

Din looks at you, the helmet turning towards you sharply. You plead at him with your eyes, questioning. Turning back to her, you squeak out, “W-what?”

The woman laughs lightly, “You have a birthmark don’t you? You both do. Yours is a crescent.”

“Koska-“ Bo-Katan is cut off by Din’s sharp intake of breath and she studies him a moment, setting her cup down. “She’s right isn’t she?”

“Why?” Din’s voice is defensive, immediately signaling that Koska hit a nerve. You’re silent, nervously wringing your hands and incredibly confused by the turn this conversation took.

“There’s legends about you two,” Koska shrugs.

“What legends?” Now it’s your turn to be defensive as you lean towards her.

“There is a story of a marked Mandalorian and their marked mate bringing balance back to the galaxy,” Bo-Katan pauses and looks toward the pram. “You have a foundling don’t you?”

“A what?” Your voice is more shrill than you mean it to be as you turn to Din, glaring at him under the dim lights. You see his shoulders tense and the others shift uncomfortably.

“I would suggest that you handle this,” Bo-Katan gestures between the two of you, “before you try to handle anything else. You know where to find us once it’s settled.” With that, she stands and nods toward you before putting her helmet on, the other two following suit.

“This is the way.”

“This is the way.” The three of them leave you two sitting awkwardly at the table before you angrily get up, suddenly feeling as if you know nothing about the man in front of you. You know it’s unfair, but you can’t help feeling betrayed.

“Y/n…” his voice trails off behind you as you rush towards the door, itching to be back on the ship, your mind reeling at the baffling conversation that just took place. You can vaguely feel him following you but you don’t acknowledge his presence until the three of you are back in the hull, the baby’s pram now open as he watches with giant eyes. You turn towards him, a scowl on your face and your arms crossed over your chest. He’s silent as the ramp closes but as soon as it locks, he looks at you, his gaze heavy under the helmet. “You didn’t know.” It’s not a question, but his voice is quiet as he moves towards you then thinks better of it and stops.

“I didn’t know what exactly? What is going on? What am I supposed to know? What aren’t you telling me?” You yell at him, a tiny voice in the back of your mind begging you to calm down, but you can’t stop the anger from bubbling up.

“Y/n,” he whispers it like a prayer before inhaling deeply, “we’ve been marked as mates since we were children.”


	16. The Legend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din explains what he knows about the Madalorian legend that you two seem to descend from. Some angst, some fluff, lots and lots of love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -I hope y'all love this chapter as much as I do xx

You stare at him, the rage plain on your face, but you’re interrupted by the sudden cries of the kid who is currently looking between you and his dad with large black eyes. Before Din can get to him, you scoop him up and climb the ladder to the cockpit, pressing the button as soon as you’re inside so the doors slam shut behind you. The baby screeches and you do your best to comfort him, but the tears just keep coming. Hours pass as you try everything: feeding him, singing to him, rocking him, pointing out creatures on the dock, and stars to him once the sun sets. Eventually, he closes his eyes and falls into a pattern of deep breathing against your soaked shirt. You coo down at him, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

When the doors slide open, you don’t bother turning around. The pram floats up beside you and you lay his tiny body inside of it, tucking the blanket around him before closing the top. Din is silent, the suit of Beskar unmoving, as he watches you. It’s not until you move towards the door that he even attempts to speak, but you ignore your name as it falls from his lips before disappearing back to the hull.

The action makes your heart ache, but your mind is reeling with so many questions. Questions he may or may not have an answer to, which is another problem all together. You pace, rubbing at your eyes until you see stars. His boots thud somewhere close to you, followed by small clanging sounds, but your back is turned so you can’t see what it is. You’re suddenly very preoccupied with the weapon cabinet, studying everything inside it while he broods less than five feet away from you.

Eventually, his ungloved hands come to rest gently on your shoulders, and you can hear his modulated breathing behind you, “Y/n.” It’s not a command of any sort, but you slowly turn to look at him, the anger bubbling inside your chest again.

“You lied to me Din.” It’s an accusation, and his unguarded chest stills at the words. Without all the Beskar, you realize now that he was taking it off earlier, he looks smaller and more inviting. The visor is pointed at you, which makes you even more angry. “They made it sound like I can see your face. They didn’t wear their helmets. What the fuck does that mean?” Your hands come out to push him away, hitting his chest harder than you meant and he steps back, catching your wrists.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what? Don’t question you? You knew and you lied!” Your voice breaks as you try to keep from yelling, try to keep from waking the baby up.

“I didn’t lie,” the modulator cracks with how quietly he’s speaking.

“Then tell me. Tell me what they said wasn’t true and explain it to me.”

He watches you for a moment before pulling you towards his chest. You tense against him, trying to keep some semblance of a level head, but his body heat makes you lean into him before he speaks again, “What they said was true, but I didn’t lie.” Din is silent, waiting for you to say something. When you don’t, he breaks away from you and grabs two cases so that you can sit and face each other. He gestures towards one and you sink down onto it, brushing at your wet cheeks and trying to stop the tears from flowing.

Once he’s seated, his elbows resting on his knees, the helmet lifts to look at you again, “I’ll tell you what I know, but it’s not much.

“On Mandalore, there was a legend of lovers who were born to bring balance to the galaxy in times of dire need. The Maker created each person out of dust, reaching into the stars and collecting the strongest elements to craft them before breathing life into their forms. The man would be marked with the sun and the woman would be marked with the moon. The balance for life on each planet. The lovers were said to have disappeared hundreds of years ago, and until they appeared again, the galaxy would be safe.

“Our families fled Mandalore together after you were born, two years after me. The Djarin clan had been marked by the sun, and your clan was marked by the moon. My parents explained to me that because I was older than you, it was my responsibility to protect you no matter the cost. I didn’t realize it would eventually mean I would lose you for what felt like a lifetime. It was my job to protect you in that cellar, but I left you behind.

“The Children of the Watch took me in and raised me. The boy that I was before I was a foundling died in that cellar with you. He was supposed to. The Creed requires us to forget our names, our faces, our lives. This is the way.

“There are very few loopholes once you take the the Creed. But after hearing what Bo-Katan said, I don’t know if it’s really true or if it’s all lies. The Death Watch look like Mandalorians and act like Mandalorians, but they are allowed to be people. I was raised to be a machine, a killer. When I found the child, that started to change.

“The armorer made us a clan of two and deemed him my foundling. He is my son. I gave up everything for him, and in order to help me, the covert all but disappeared. They’ve gone into hiding and I haven’t gone back since before I rescued you. When I found the child, I watched you fight on Arvalla-7. At first, I didn’t believe my eyes. I had gone to the armorer and asked about the legend. I didn’t even know for sure until I saw your birthmark on the Crest.

“It’s my responsibility to give this foundling the life he deserves, and it’s our responsibility to bring balance.”

You’re silent as you watch him wring his hands, rubbing at the spot between his thumb and index finger. “Is the covert gone or are they dead?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you know the child’s name?”

“No.”

“What balance are we supposed to bring back?”

“I don’t know,” his voice is exasperated, and you can tell he’s frustrated with your questions.

“Din…” You take his hands in your own before falling to your knees in front of him, looking up at the visor, trying to find his eyes through it. He doesn’t move as you bring your hands to the sides of the helmet, pausing and waiting for his response. “Can I?”

Din’s hands come up to rest on top of yours, stopping you from moving the helmet off of him, “I-I can’t. Not yet. Please.” You nod, dropping your hands to your lap and biting your lip to keep the tears at bay. He moves to the floor with you so that he’s on the same level, “Riduur, I want to show myself to you, but not like this.” You nod again and fold into his embrace, his strong arms wrapping around you.

“We need to go back to them. They can help us.”

“I promised I would help them on a mission, when you were in the cock pit. Bo-Katan will give me the information I need when it’s done. I leave in the morning, but it’s already late.”

You stand, pulling him up with you and leading him towards your bedroom. The exhaustion takes over and you pull him onto the bed, not even bothering to undress. As soon as he taps the light switch, you hear the hiss of his helmet and the familiar clink before you both fall asleep.

Din is gone when you wake, but the child is toddling around on the bed, watching you as he plays with his silver ball. There’s a note and a com link next to the bed. _I’ll make contact with coordinates, fly to get me. -Din._ A man of few words. With a shaky breath, you realize last night is the most you’ve ever heard him speak.

“Come here you little gremlin,” he giggles and rushes over to you, tripping on his baggy clothes. You hold the ball out in front of him while he makes grabby hands and baby noises. After about twenty minutes, you decide to risk taking a shower while he plays and slip away to the refresher. The warm water eases the rest of your nerves as you wash your hair and shave, taking advantage of the Crest being in a landing dock. Afterwards, you can’t help but stare at the reflection of your birthmark in the mirror. You run your fingertips over it, remembering the legend that Din told you last night. You braid your hair into a crown and pin it up before finishing getting ready. A faint buzzing makes you dress quickly before running back to the room and clicking the com link on, placing it onto your wrist, “Hello.”

“Where were you?”

“I was in the refresher, where are you?” You can’t hide the smile in your voice.

“I-I’m a couple thousand feet off the ground right now. In a ship.”

“Coordinates?” You scoop the child up and he giggles, which in turn makes his father chuckle, before climbing to the cockpit. Setting him down, you buckle him up and start flipping switches as you settle into the pilot’s seat. Din gives you his location which you plug in as the engines start up, the Crest rattling as you ease it into the air.

“Make sure the hatch is open when you get here.”

“Wait wh-“ the com link clicks off and you curse as the Crest jolts upwards. The ship doesn’t take long to locate, and you hover a good distance beneath it before pressing the buttons for the hatch to open half-way. A glint catches your attention on the ship’s catwalk before whatever it is falls off the side.

With a gasp, you realize it’s Din as his jetpack fires to life and he comes to a hovering stop outside the cockpit, saluting you. You laugh before he dips away and seconds later, the hatch bangs shut below you. You push the Crest upwards and break the atmosphere just as Din comes up to the cockpit, pulling his gloves off before leaning against the other chair and rubbing the kid’s ears. “We’re going to Corvus,” he says matter of factly and you punch in the coordinates before making the jump into hyperspace. The stars streak above the glass and you can’t help but stair up at them.

“What’s on Corvus?” You spin to look at him and find the helmet is already trained on you. The kid’s big eyes are looking up at him. 

“Someone who can help us with the kid.” He coos at the mention of himself. Din watches you, silently, before reaching into a pouch at his belt. You raise an eyebrow, questioning the bizarre movement but deciding not to press it. The kid also senses something is up and looks between the both of you, his little teeth worrying at his lip.

“Din, what is it?” You lean forward, ready to stand up, but he stops you.

“I told you that I wanted to show myself to you, I want you to see me… but there’s only one way that can happen.” He breathes in sharply, and you realize he’s nervous.

“Din, I will wait as long as you want. I don’t care as long as I’m with you,” you ignore his previous attempt at halting you and move towards him, trying to take his hands in yours when you realize what he’s holding. Shock rushes across your face as you look into the visor. “Din, I-“

His soft voice cracks through the modulator, “Marry me.”


	17. Vows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just wedding smut if I'm being honest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for not updating recently. School is kicking my ass. I am back though and I hope it was worth the wait. We'll get to the kinda canon/good stuff in the next chapter. xx

He holds the ring in his hand, unmoving as you stare down at it, your small gasp echoing through the cockpit. The visor is tilted towards you, letting the silence blanket the room. Din finally grasps your hands and slowly kneels in front of you, watching as tears fall down your face. “Y/N, please say something,” the modulator barely catches his quiet pleading.

“Yes,” your whisper is barely audible as you drop to both of your knees in front of him. “A million times, yes.” The tension in his shoulders immediately dissipates, the streaking stars making his Beskar shine as he looks at you through the visor. Taking your left hand, he starts to slip the ring onto your finger before stopping and looking down.

“This,” he whispers, “is made from my armor. The men don’t wear rings, we won’t have a ceremony with friends. When I give you this, we’ll repeat the words together and it will be our union. Are you sure you want this?”

You stop him from sliding it the rest of the way onto your finger by standing up and you hear his breath hitch as the visor snaps upwards to look at you, “Din, come here.” He takes your hand and stands to his full height, glancing down at the pram as he does so, almost like he knows what you’re about to say. “I want to marry you under these stars, and I want to kiss you after we say the vows. Will you let me?”

“Yes,” he breaths out. Din takes your hand again and slides the ring into place. “Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar’tome, mhi me’dinui an, mhi ba’juri verde.”

You grasp his hands in yours and look into the visor, hoping to make eye contact with him, “We are one whether we are together or apart, we will share everything and we will raise our children as warriors.” Your smile makes his knees weak, and he tries to stop his tears as he breaks away from you to grip his helmet. On instinct, you close your eyes as you hear the hiss of the helmet disengage, then the clank as it’s set down somewhere.

“Riduur,” Din’s strong hands come up to gently grasp your face, his thumbs swiping at your own tears, “open your eyes, my love.”

The memories of the little boy you knew as a child would never do the man, standing in front of you, justice. You can’t help but study every feature of his face, every curl adorning his head, the way his lips part as he looks down at you and he holds his breath. His brown eyes stare back at you, wide with anticipation and nervousness and love, the tears streaming from them glistening in the blue light. His tan skin glows in the starlight and his hair falls haphazardly onto his brow bone, the scruff on his chin turning grey in some areas. You reach up to stroke your thumb across his cheek, and he stiffens at first before leaning into your touch and giving you permission. His eyes close at the movement, and his breathing evens out as his arms encircle your waist and pull you towards him. One hand comes up to weave into your hair at the base of your neck and your own eyes close as his lips come down to meet yours. Your hand moves to entwine with his hair, the other one resting on his bicep. Though he’s kissed you countless times, none of them compare to this.

Even with your eyes closed, you can see the blue and white streaks of hyperspace. His tongue darts out against your bottom lips and you sigh, parting yours for him. Your tongues dance around each other as he deepens the kiss, pulling you even farther into him and at some point you feel the heat start building in your core. He feels it too, because you feel Din harden against you, his cock nudging against your stomach. “Mesh’la,” he whispers against your lips, pulling away to catch his breath. You breathe heavily against him, the Beskar on his chest digging into your breasts. “Please.” His pleading makes you ache and you sigh again, the sound making his cock twitch against you. He reaches down to click the buttons on his arm to move the pram, and it floats toward the hull. Once it’s gone, Din grasps your jaw and gently forces you to look up at him, “My beautiful wife, let me show you much I love you.” You gasp as he kisses you swiftly before dropping to his knees, the Beskar clanging against the floor. He looks up at you with those brown eyes, and you feel the heat pool between your legs as he lifts your shirt up, moving your hands to hold it against your breasts, “Don’t move until I say so.”

You nod, your lips parted and swollen as you grasp the shirt against your chest. Din lets his finger tips graze against your skin, and you realize he hasn’t even taken his gloves off. The movement causes goose bumps to raise along the trails he traces. He lays a few wet kisses against your stomach, before turning his attention to your boots. After discarding them, he grips your waistband and pulls your pants and underwear down, helping you step out of them. The cool air makes you shiver and the fact that his face is so close to you while you’re slick with desire makes you moan. He runs his fingers up your inner thigh, causing your breath to hitch and he looks up at you, his eyes dark with want. Din pauses his movements against your leg, only to drag his hand down until he wraps his fingers around your ankle and lifts your leg so that it’s hooked over his shoulder. The Beskar digs into your skin as he leans forward to run his tongue through your folds. You cry out, almost dropping your hands from cupping your breasts but he tsks against you and whispers, “Don’t move, or I’ll stop.” You whimper when his strong hands grasp your ass, holding you in place, his breath teasing your clit.

“Din…” you trail off when he leans forward again, slowly licking you and flicking his tongue against your clit, the bundle of nerves shooting electric sensations throughout your body. He lazily licks you, dipping his tongue in and out of your pussy before sucking on your clit, until you tremble against him. Finally, when the stars streaking above you mix with the stars you see in your vision, he pulls you even closer to him and snakes one of his hands between your legs from behind. His forearm presses into your ass as his fingers tease your entrance and you cry out again. He brings his other hand up to cup your breast under the shirt, pinching at your nipple as he bites at your hip. The leather of his gloves is rough and smooth all at the same time, making his touches extra sensitive against your skin.

“You can touch me now.” Without hesitation, you drop your hands to grab at his hair gently. All of the sensations he is providing explode when his thick digit enters you, quickly followed by another and then a third. He curls his fingers just right, and you come undone. Trembling, you almost sink down but he holds you in place. As you finger fucks you through it, he moves the pilot chair with his other hand. He quickly pushes you down into it and removes his fingers, only to replace them with his mouth as he licks up your juices. The feeling of him sucking on your clit sends you over the edge again, the overstimulation making the second orgasm almost painful as it rips through you with white hot intensity. He doesn’t stop his assault on your clit until you’re a mess of moaning and heavy breathing, the trembling subsiding. “I believe I can give you one more, my love.”

“Din… fuck me,” you whine as you look at him with heavily lidded eyes. His chin is slick with your cum as he unhooks your legs from around his shoulders. Din sucks on one of his gloved fingers before biting the leather and pulling it off, quickly discarding the other one, too. He stands, looking down at you as he starts disengaging the armor. Slowly, he pulls it off, laying it down gently to the side. He knows the rate he’s going at is making you ache, and he watch as you reach down to try to give your aching pussy some relief. You moan when your fingers brush your clit, and he lets out a low groan at the sight of watching you. Finally, he discards his shirt, his tan and muscular skin slick with sweat and glowing from the stars. He drops his pants and kicks them off, his cock springing up against his stomach. You’ve felt the length of it enter you so many times, but this is the first time you’ve seen it and you gasp a little. He strokes the entire length of it, throwing his head back and letting out a low groan again, before reaching for you and hauling you to your feet. “Din-“

Your protest is cut short when he picks you up and pushes you against the controls. They dig into your back, but the pain makes your pussy throb as he reaches down to position himself against your entrance. You wrap your legs around his waist, his tip teasing your clit, and you look up at him, in awe of the man that’s looking down at you. He smiles, making your heart and pussy flutter, before dipping down to kiss you. With a thrust, he sinks inside of you, both of you moaning through the kiss. Din bites your bottom lip gently as he sets a slow, but deep pace. Since you’re still sensitive, the overstimulation makes your pussy clench around him and he throws his head back. You wrap your hands into his hair, pulling him back to look at you as you kiss him again. He smiles against your lips before you move to kiss his jaw line, his cheek bones, his nose, and finally his neck. As you suck at his pulse point, his pace picks up and you moan, the sound echoing through the space. “Look at me, mesh’la.” You do as he says and look up at him, fighting the urge to close your eyes as the tension in your core tightens, threatening to snap at any moment. He reaches his hand between your bodies, never breaking eye contact, to rub your clit and it sends you over the edge as you pant out his name, trembling against him. His hips still against you, and you feel him cum, shooting his seed into you.

 _We will raise our children as warriors_.

The vow rushes through your mind as he collapses against you, both of you breathing heavy and trembling. As he kisses your neck, you can’t help the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes.


End file.
